


The Opposite of Attraction is Pushing Away, and we're Definitely Not Doing That

by Bluebxll



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Eating Disorders, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Frerard, Gay, Geek Gerard Way, Hating Each Other, High School, Hipster Gerard Way, Homophobia, M/M, Punk Frank Iero, Science Class, Science Fair, Sketchbook, anger issues, record store
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:50:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5450660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebxll/pseuds/Bluebxll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When enemies, like Frank and Gerard, are forced to sit next to each other in science class, things become a little... magnetic. //Trigger Warning\\</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic may be slightly triggering to some people. Please stay safe and don't read if you may be triggered by what's in the tags. I love you, take care of yourself you beautiful being. Anyways, enjoy!

**GERARD**

I am, by far, not interested in school in the least. I hate everything about it, the people most of all. My friends, Andy, Ryan, and Hayley, are the only tolerable people here (and I use that term lightly). Everyone else can just go screw themselves as far as I’m concerned.

This includes teachers.

Most of the teachers in my grade has had a stick up their ass since the beginning of the year, allowing me time to get used to the boring lectures on behavior and unnecessary seating charts. However, there’s always those one or two teachers who start out the school year pretty nice, but then by the beginning of Third Quarter, something snaps and it’s “no more Mr. Nice Guy.” They’re the ones you need to watch out for because they’re the ones who become incredibly strict and it’s as if the Devil himself shoved his sharpest, most uncomfortable stick as far as he could possibly get it up their ass. And it’s always unexpected, too. That’s why when Mr. Hatcher, my science teacher, “laid down the law” on the worst Monday of my existence, my world fell apart.

“Alright, listen up, class! I am done with all your disrespect. There are going to be some changes around here, starting with a new seating chart.” Of course, there was a collective groan from the class as this was one of the few classes where we got to choose where we sat. I mean, once you chose a spot, that was your spot for the rest of the quarter, but at least we got to choose our lab partners. But that wasn’t the part that bothered me. Nor was it the way he decided to arrange this seating chart. (By first name? Seriously? Who arranges people alphabetically by first name?) No, it was the person I was seated next to. Out of all of twenty-one kids in my class, I was seated next to the one person I hated the most in this hellhole.

Frank Iero. The biggest dick I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.

 

 

**FRANK**

I’m big on words. I like them. I have a good sized vocabulary, and when I say something, I like to say it well. I know what words mean.

That being said, when I use the word hate, I know exactly what it means and where it should be used in order for it to make sense. I am aware that it’s a strong word. That won’t stop me from saying I hate school.

I hate a few things, actually. I hate (most of) the people there, I hate having to do my work, I hate my mother (but only sometimes), I hate mornings, I hate my stomachaches, I hate my mental health, there’s been times when I’ve hated myself, but most of all, more than any of these other things…

I hate Gerard Way.

So, after showing up late on what would later turn out to be the worst Monday of my existence, you can imagine my surprise when I walked into science class and found we had a new seating arrangement.

But, me being me of course, I didn’t notice until I was at my old desk, face-to-face with one of the popular kids.

“Oh, uh. Um. What?” I stuttered out.

“This is my desk now. You’re over there,” they explained. My face went from embarrassment, to disgust, to confusion, to straight-up, unclouded, unstoppable pure fury.

Of course. The devil himself shan’t go hungry on my watch.

I was seated next to the one and only Gerard Way.


	2. Chapter 1

**GERARD**

Fan- _freaking_ -tastic. Not only was he the biggest dick on the planet, but he was also late. When Frank finally arrived, he headed straight for his old seat. I chuckled under my breath a bit, as I heard his embarrassed stuttering before one of the more popular kids redirected him to his new seat right beside me.

When he sat down, he practically had smoke coming out of his ears he was so mad. I couldn’t blame him, of course. I wasn’t exactly ecstatic myself about our predicament.

After a brief lecture about the importance of coming to class on time, (purely directed at Frank, might I add) Mr. Hatcher launched back into his previous lecture on behavior and the changes he was making in this class to “keep us on the right track.” I did my best to ignore Frank and tried to pay attention to Mr. Hatcher, but my mind started to wander as it so often does. That’s when I realized that Frank was my lab partner now. Isn’t that just great?

I looked over to him. He had his earbuds in. I don’t know why, but that really pissed me off. If he was going to be my lab partner from now on, he was going to have to pay attention in class. I pulled one of his earbuds out of his ear.

“Pay attention, asshat.” I whispered violently into his ear. He gave me his best death glare and if looks could kill, I’m pretty sure I would be lying on the floor in a pool of my own blood right now. It was honestly one of the best ones I’ve seen him give. Nevertheless, he kept his ears open and his eyes trained on the teacher.

The rest of the period went well, considering who was beside me and that he was so pissed, I was practically choking on the anger radiating from him.

The bell rang, signifying that it was time to move on to the next boring class and I cried out with joy. The torture was finally over!

By the time I gathered up all my stuff, the class was half empty already and Frank was nowhere to be seen. Funny, I hadn’t noticed him leave.

I met up with Hayley at our math class before the bell to begin class rang. We made our way to the seats in the very back, as our teacher had enough common sense to arrange this class alphabetically by _last name_ and our surnames both began with “W.”

“Guess who’s got a stick up their ass now?” I asked her, trying not to let my voice betray the horrible news I was about to tell her.

“Not Mr. Hatcher! I actually kind of liked his class!” The fiery-haired girl exclaimed.

“But wait! There’s more!” I said mockingly.

“Oh yeah? And what might that be?”

“He’s got a new seating chart. Guess who I have the pleasure of sitting next to now!”

She groaned. “Who?”

I leaned forward, putting my face close to her ear. “Iero.” I said softly.

The pure horror plastered across her face almost made the last period seem tolerable. _Almost_.

“ _Frank_ Iero?”

“The one and only.” I replied bitterly.

“You poor thing!” She cooed before the bell to start class rung.

 

*****

 

Hayley and I walked to our usual lunch table to find Andy and Ryan already there.

“Gerard! Settle something for us!” Ryan demanded. “Which was better, Ten’s TARDIS or Eleven’s?”

And of course we started out the conversation talking about Doctor Who. We wouldn’t be geeks otherwise.

“I think Twelve has the best TARDIS.”

“Ha! I told you- wait, what?” Ryan began to gloat, thinking I had agreed with him, before realizing what I said.

“See, I knew he would say that.” Andy said. “What about you, Hayley? Which TARDIS do you like the best?”

“Ten’s. Definitely.” She replied before taking a bite out of the sandwich she brought for lunch today.

“You heard her. Pay up, Ryan!”

“But that wasn’t the bet! We said whichever one _Gerard_ chooses, remember?” Andy and Ryan continued to bicker about the bet they had made while Hayley and I discussed my predicament in science.

“What am I gonna do? I can’t have _him_ as a lab partner! He never gets better than a C on anything!”

“I dunno, but you’re gonna have to make it work. It’s no use trying to bargain with a teacher once they’ve gone dark side.”

“I know, but honestly, Hayley, it’s Iero! I swear I’d rather die than sit with him! That is, if he doesn’t kill me first!”

“Who’s killing who now?” Andy asked as Ryan got out his wallet, giving Andy five bucks.

“Gee’s being forced to sit with Iero in Hatcher’s” There was a gasp from the other two table mates as Hayley explained what was going on.

“Aw, man, that sucks!” Ryan said sympathetically.

“I know.” I groaned and put my head in my hands.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure no one would blame you if one of his eyebrows ‘accidentally’ caught on fire during one of your experiments.” Andy said which made me laugh. Just the thought of Frank with only one eyebrow lightened my mood by quite a bit.

We continued talking and laughing until lunch was over. I may not have had much hope for my new lab partner, but hanging out with my friends for a while made me feel like everything was going to be alright. And maybe, _just maybe_ , sitting next to the guy I hated the most in the world wouldn’t be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter! I'm going to try to post another chapter every day until I run out of pre-written chapters. I apologize for the messy tags, I'll fix that when I get the chance. Anyways, please comment and thank you for reading!
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	3. Chapter 2

**FRANK**

_Crap. Crap. Crap._

This was not good. I did not like this. Not at all.

I hurried over to my new seat and sat down, and Gerard was being all stupid with his button-down shirt and black hair and glasses that he probably didn’t need. I was livid- what teenage boy could possibly do so much wrong in the world that would make him be seated next to this asshole?

What’s better yet is that the teacher took the pleasure of directing his lovely ‘don’t be late’ speech right at me. I couldn’t take this today. I didn’t want to. I put in my earbuds and listened to Misfits to try to drown out the teacher’s irritating voice.

Or at least, I _tried_ to.

Gerard reached over and pulled one out of my ear. I stared him down, glaring at him, and I felt him shrink back a little, even though he returned with a glare of his own. If I wasn’t mad before, I sure was now. I furiously put my phone back into my desk and, with a set glare, stared at the whiteboard in the front of the class.

I could not wait to get out of there, and then eventually, I did. The bell rang, and with it came the weight off my chest. I gathered up my things and I practically ran out the door.

I hung around my locker area for a while, and had to walk past Gerard and that red-haired girl on the way to my next class. I hurried past them, and slid into my seat for the next three periods of torture.

Then it was lunch, and I walked to the back of the cafeteria to sit with my friends Pete and Patrick.

"Hey guys." I said as I sat down.

"Yo.” Pete said, then turned to Patrick and resumed their conversation about what drummer in our school was the best.

Pete and Patrick had wanted to start a band for years, but nothing ever seemed to work out. They had it planned, too, which was the worst part. Patrick would sing and play guitar, Pete would play bass, they were thinking about asking this guitarist Joe if he was interested, they just needed a drummer, and the only person they were even remotely interested in asking was Andy. It probably would've worked, if it weren't for the fact that Andy was Gerard's friend.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, reminded of the horrors of this morning by my train of thought, "Guess who I have the displeasure of sitting next to in science class?"

Patrick turned to me, sympathy in his eyes. "Oh Frank. Who?"

"Gerard. Mother-fucking. Way." I said.

Pete gasped. "Oh my God. Oh no. Oh, Frank. I'm so sorry," he said.

"I know. I have no idea how I'm going to manage," I said.

"God, that guy's such a jerk," Patrick said, and I laughed internally at the fact that Patrick is seemingly unable to curse. Like, ever.

We all stared at our food in mourning for my unfortunate placement in science, then gradually began eating again, though the conversation was much less chipper.

"Wait,' Pete said after a while, "That Gerard guy... isn't his brother a freshmen?"

"Yeah," Patrick said. "Why?"

I laughed to myself. He knew why. I knew why. Everybody knew why.

Pete was in love with my enemy's little brother. He had been since Mikey's first day. And he hadn't shut up about him.

"Oh, no reason," Pete responded, and busied himself with the cafeteria food.

Patrick and I shared a look of knowledge and amusement, but it was quickly replaced with a look of fear and disgust as the bell rang. We all sighed, and stood up, saying goodbye and parting ways.

Time to get this day over with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I hope you're liking it so far. Anyways, comments make my day, so I'd love to know what you think.
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	4. Chapter 3

**GERARD**

After school. A time when most people would be doing something with friends, working a part time job, or procrastinating on their homework. I, however, was awkwardly sitting in the front seat of my car with my younger brother’s boyfriend, Ray, waiting for Mikey, my brother, because my mom forces me to drive them home every day.

Ray is strange, to say the least. He has the coolest fro I’ve ever seen, but he looks as if he’s in his twenties and acts like a giant puppy. Honestly, I don’t think he and Mikey have anything in common and if it weren’t for the daily make-out sessions in the back seat of my car that I’m forced to sit through, I would wonder why they’ve been together this long. Today is their four month anniversary. I only know this because Mikey would NOT stop talking about it this morning.

When Mikey finally found his way to the car and got in, he attacked Ray’s face immediately. The car was yet again filled with the sound of kissing, small sighs, and soft moans, disgusting me thoroughly. I opened the glove compartment, blindly searching for something before my hand closed around a small, square wrapper. I pulled out the flimsy plastic and looked back at the other two people in the car. My string bean of a brother was on Ray’s lap at this point. I took my opportunity to throw the condom at them when they finally broke off for air. Mikey looked down at the thing that had just landed in his lap before processing what it was and shouting my name.

“Hey, just let me know if I should take you guys to a hotel or something, cause I don’t want to hear you two-“

“GERARD!” Mikey interrupted, the both of them blushing.

“Alright, alright.” I said as I turned back around. “Before I start driving, does everyone have their seatbelts on?”

“I hate you.” I heard Mikey mumble, but nevertheless, he got off Ray and buckled up. It was apparent I had killed the mood, so I turned on the radio to keep things from getting too awkward and started driving while singing along to the Maroon 5 song playing.

“Wow, your taste in music sucks! How have I not noticed that before?” Ray said.

“Well, a, my music taste does not suck, and b, you’ve been too busy shoving your tongue down my brother’s throat to notice.”

“No, your music taste really does suck.” Mikey piped up.

“Well, at least the music I like is actually _on the radio_.” I remarked.

“What a weird thing to hear from a _hipster_.” Mikey replied.

“I am _not_ a hipster!”

“You kinda are.” Said Ray.

“Really Gerard? You wear thick rimmed glasses, plaid button downs, and you watch obscure shows and listen to that weird ass podcast shit, and you’re not a hipster?” Mikey listed.

“And don’t forget his flower crowns!” Ray added.

“Right! The flower crowns that you wear _ironically_.”

“I can’t help that I’m a geek with great fashion sense and a love of ironically wearing flower crowns!”

“What about your Tumblr?”

“What about my Tumblr?”

“Well, starting with the fact that you actually _have_ a Tumblr, and your url? Not a white girl, just a gay guy? And your title? Starbucks, flower crowns, and more? And just look at what you post!” Mikey chided.

“Okay, I see your point.” I replied. “But, I’m not a hipster.”

 

*****

 

“You are totally a hipster!” Hayley exclaimed the next day when I had told her what had happened before school.

“That’s not exactly the response I was fishing for, Hayls.” I pouted.

“That’s why I said it.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever.”

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Science class. Frank Iero. New seating arrangement. Any of this ringing a bell?”

“Oh yeah. Well, I’m sure it won’t be _that_ bad.”

“I hope you’re right.” I sighed before we parted ways and I headed to what was now the thing I dreaded most about school. First period science class with Frank Iero.

I took as long as I could at my locker, just so I wouldn’t have to be near _him_ , but I couldn’t avoid going to class forever and I eventually made my way over to Mr. Hatcher’s classroom.

Now, I’m going to start by saying, I am incredibly clumsy, so of course I tripped over a pencil as soon as I entered the room. And of course I fell into the person in front of me. And of course we both ended up on the ground. And of course that person just so happened to be the one and only Frank Iero.

At first, I didn’t notice who I had just knocked over. All I was able to see of the person under me was jet black hair and closed eyes. But then, the pair of eyes opened and I had two very pretty, honey-hazel eyes glaring back at me.

“Get the fuck off me.” I heard the person under me say with as much venom in their words as possible.

“What?” I said, unable to process the words.

“I said get the fuck off of me, Way!” That’s when I realized I was on top of Frank Iero, and I scrambled to get off him before the midget had the chance to throw me off himself. I hurriedly darted to my seat, perfectly aware of how red my face must have been. And then I noticed the tense silence from the rest of the class and the amused look on Mr. Hatcher’s face. This just made me blush even harder and I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t look at anyone.

I noticed Frank sitting down next to me before Mr. Hatcher started talking.

“Well, class. As I’m sure most of you know the science fair is coming up at the end of the quarter. That being said, I expect all of you to participate because it will be a large percentage of your grade. You can base it on anything we’ve learned about this year. Frank and Gerard,” I looked up as he said our names.” I suggest you two do something on magnets, because you’re so attracted to each other.” The class laughed, but I didn’t quite understand until I realized where my lips had landed when I fell on top of Frank. I had accidently kissed Frank Iero. I was disgusted, embarrassed, and so angry with myself that I felt like I was going to throw up. I had _kissed_ my worst enemy!

Oh crap. I was sure my face was redder than a tomato. And now I had to spend another thirty minutes next to the (probably straight) guy I had just kissed.

Soon enough, the next thirty minutes of torture that was supposed to be spent discussing ideas for science projects and exchanging contact information with our partners, but I really spent them trying to stop shaking and calming myself down enough so that I could maybe, eventually talk, were over. I jumped out of my seat and dashed to the door as soon as the bell rung, being the first one out of the classroom for once. Normally, it took me while to make sure I have everything.

I practically ran down the hallway, passing Hayley waiting for me at my locker, and straight into my seat in the back of my math class.

“Dude! What the hell?” Hayley demanded when she sat down.

“Ijustkissedfrankiero!” I squeaked.

“In English, please!”

I took a deep breath to help me slow down my speech, but it still came out quite rushed. “I just kissed Frank Iero!”

“You WHAT?”

“Please don’t make me say it again!”

“What the hell d’you kiss Iero for?”

“It was an accident!”

“How do you accidently kiss your enemy?”

“Oh no! I forgot my sketchbook!” That’s when the bell to start class rang. I gave Hayley a worried look before the teacher started her lecture. I would just have to hope it was still there after class.

 

*****

 

I forced Hayley to come with me back to Hatcher’s classroom to search for my missing sketch book, but it was nowhere to be seen and Mr. Hatcher said no one had told him about any sketchbook that they’d found. We thanked him for letting us search his classroom and I glumly made my way to my next class. I would just have to hope it found its way to the lost and found.

 

*****

 

“Guess what this idiot did!” Hayley said as we sat down at our regular lunch table.

“Hmm, kiss Frank Iero?” Ryan guessed.

“How’d you know?” I asked, shocked.

“The whole school’s talking about it.” Andy nonchalantly said before taking a bite of his salad.

“Great.” I said sarcastically, putting my head in my hands.

“They say you tackled him and started kissing him in Hatcher’s.” Ryan added.

“What?” Hayley choked on her sandwich.

“I tripped and fell! It was an accident!” I exclaimed.

“Mm- _hmm_. You ‘fell’ on his lips. Sure thing, Gee.” Ryan said sarcastically.

“Could you say he fell for Frank?” Hayley joked and high-fived the other two.

“Guys! Really?”

“Alright, alright. We’ll go to the mall after school, get your mind off it. Sound good?” Hayley soothed.

“Yeah, okay.” I muttered. I only agreed because I knew I would get Starbucks.

It’s weird; the worst part isn’t that I kissed my worst enemy. Nor was it that I lost my sketchbook. The worst part was that I couldn’t get those beautiful honey-hazel eyes out of my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, drama. This chapter was a lot of fun to write. Gerard's Tumblr is a real thing if you're interested. (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/notawhitegirl-justagayguy). Anyways, thank you guys for reading and commenting! I'll post again tomorrow.
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	5. Chapter 4

**FRANK**

Nothing good ever comes out of a rushed morning. Of this, I promise you.

The day started with my alarm clock not working, leading to a whole fifteen minutes of time to get ready. I didn’t have time to shower and most of my clothes were in the washing machine, so I threw on a Misfits shirt that didn’t fit that well, ran a brush through my hair, and ate my toast on the run to school.

Maybe I could’ve asked my mom to drive me, but she doesn’t give a shit about my well-being, and probably never will. Therefore, I went myself. Usually I listen to music or something, but of course today had to be the day to forget my headphones, so the rushed journey did nothing but spike up my anxiety.

‘What if I’m late? I’m going to be late. I’m going to walk into class late and everyone’s gonna stare at me, and I’ll do something stupid on my way to my desk, and…”

Thoughts like these continued into the classroom, and for the time being, I was so caught up in my worries that I forgot the whole I-have-to-sit-next-to-Gerard-fucking-Way-in-science-class situation.

That is, until he was on top of me.

I wasn’t able to register the fact that I was falling until I had already fallen. I closed my eyes to brace for impact, and when I opened them, I was staring right into the greenish eyes of Gerard. I could not _believe_ this.

“Get the fuck off me,” I said, trying my best to keep calm.

“What?” he said, as if he didn’t hear me. God. Keeping my cool was getting harder.

“I said get. The fuck. _Off_ of me, Way,” I said again. I was getting ready to push him off me when he finally moved and scrambled for his seat.

The class was staring and Mr. Hatcher looked amused. I was practically shaking with rage. Deep breaths, you’ll calm down later, I was telling myself. I was so mad I could hardly function. I didn’t pay attention to the lesson that morning, only looking up when he said our names. The period ended and Gerard practically ran out the door, so quick he seemed to have left something behind. I took a closer look.

A sketchbook.

 

*****

 

The rest of the day was spent in a daze. I was trying to figure out why exactly I was so mad. After all, it was just an unfortunate misplace of feet. No, it wasn’t where his body landed that bothered me (though that still rather sucked).

It was where his lips landed.

Now, I’m almost positive that it didn’t happen. It was probably just his hand or his chin or something. I was certain that Gerard Way did not kiss me, be it that it may an accidental kiss. I wouldn’t believe it, and I wasn’t going to. No. No no no no no no no. No.

Also, that boy bolted out of the classroom so quick afterwards I had no time to berate him on the common courtesy of “hey, asshat, try to watch where you’re walking next time”, so maybe he was embarrassed. In which case, good, let him be embarrassed. I would just have to talk to him about it tomorrow.

 

*****

 

I walked into school the next day a bit early, which is saying something for me and my screwed up sleep schedule. Well, that and my reputation of always being late. I earned a weird glance from that Ray guy, who I’m pretty sure is dating Gerard’s younger brother.

“Hey, uh, Ray, isn’t it?”

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“I was wondering if you knew where Gerard is.”

“Dude. I thought you hated that guy,” he responded.

“Yeah, I do,” I said.

“Okay, so if you hate him, why are you getting all buddy-buddy with him now?”

 _Buddy-buddy? What the hell?_ I was thinking, but instead I said “Just because I want to know where the guy is doesn’t mean I’m getting all… ‘buddy-buddy’.” I shivered internally at the use of that ridiculous phrase. “For all you know, I could be going to beat him up.”

Ray looked amused. “Okay, number one, I doubt you could beat him up, you’re too short, and number two, why would I give away his location if I knew you were gonna beat him up?”

I rolled my eyes. “I am not that short,” I muttered. “And okay, I’m not going to beat him up. I want to talk to him about something that happened yesterday.”

“Oh, you mean the kiss? Yeah, I doubt he’d want to discuss that.”

I froze. So it was true.

“Uh. Well. Um. I mean, I’m not really sure if- I mean,” I tried to say, but Ray cut me off with laughter and motioned towards the cafeteria.

“In there,” he said, and I nodded and practically ran away.

It wasn’t hard to find him from there. The stupid button-down shirt and his dumb hair. God. What a hipster.

“Hey. You,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder.

Gerard spun around. “Ew. What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I know. I hate it as much as you do. I just need to talk to you about something.”

“Could this not have waited for science class?” he asked, obviously very far out of his comfort zone.

“No, because we have a project to work on.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about the project. Whatever. What do you want? Tell me so you can leave.”

“Um.” By this point, lecturing Gerard on how to properly walk seemed useless. I didn’t know what I was doing or why I was here. I just knew that Gerard knocked me over yesterday and his hair looked really nice.

I was falling over his eyes a bit, and his shirt brought out the green, and he was-

Wait. No.

“Uhh...” I tried again. “Just, uhm, maybe watch where you step next time. And, uh, try to. Um. I don’t know. Shit, I’m sorry. I’ll leave now.”

I turned around and left, trying to hide my blushing. _No ridicule,_ I was thinking, _what is this? Was he smiling? He didn’t look mad. This is spooky._

“Hey, uh, wait up,” I heard from behind me. Oh great. Now he’s gonna start making fun of me.

“What?” I said, a bit too forceful for my own good.

“Um. Did you happen to find a sketchbook the other day?” Gerard asked.

Oh crap. I had forgotten about his sketchbook that I picked up.

“Um, yeah. I saw it. Why?”

“Because, well. It’s mine. And it’s pretty important.”

Oh. This sparked something inside of me, and all of a sudden I was over his nice hair and his very attractive shirt and face and completely ready to start the hate war back up again.

“Oh, well, I didn’t grab it. I just saw it. You left it behind on the table after you ran out of there. Y’know, after you _fell on top of me_.”

Gerard looked a bit nervous. “Oh no,” I heard him mutter under his breath. “Okay, whatever. Real helpful, Iero.”

“My goal,” I responded with a smirk. Gerard rolled his eyes.

“Just leave,” he said.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

I turned and left the cafeteria, only to be forced back with him come science class. His sketchbook was burning a hole through my backpack. I had no idea how I was planning on getting through the next period.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was out all day yesterday, so sorry for not updating. But it's here now and that's all that really matters. I'll post the next one later today, so look out for that. Anyways, comment, bookmark, and all that jazz!
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	6. Chapter 5

**GERARD**

Mistake number one: I had gotten to school early.

Mistake number two: I had decided to sit with Ryan and Andy in the cafeteria.

Mistake number three: I had acknowledged Frank’s presence when he tapped me on the shoulder.

When I turned around, I was reminded of the gorgeous eyes that haunted my dreams last night. “Ew.” Escaped my lips as a natural reaction to thinking about my enemy’s eyes for the umpteenth time that day, at the same time making me really uncomfortable.

I was legitimately concerned for Frank’s well-being because I knew how much he hated me, so if he was here to talk to me of his own free will, which I believe he was, then I knew something must have been wrong. He started stuttering, and despite how stupid he looked, I thought it was actually kind of cute. I unwillingly smiled a bit before realizing what I was doing and immediately wiping the stupid grin off my face.

He started to leave and that’s when I remembered that he probably has my sketchbook. I stood up and called after him, but he denied having it. I didn’t believe him for a second because after searching the entire school campus- _twice_ \- I still couldn’t find it and the only logical explanation was the Frank had it.

“Okay, that was weird.” Ryan said as I sat back down.

“Tell me about it.” I muttered.

“Hey, have you found your sketchbook, yet?” Andy asked.

“No, but I have a pretty good idea of where it is.” I answered.

“And where might that be?” Ryan questioned.

“In Iero’s possession.” I replied calmly. I was met by gasps. And then I realized just what that meant. That sketchbook was filled with pictures I had never let anybody see, and now the person that hates me the most in the world has them. This was not going to be good.

 

*****

 

First period rolled around and I knew I was going to get that sketchbook back if it was the last thing I did.

As people were coming in the classroom, they were automatically going to their seats and starting their projects. It was as if they were under someone else’s control, something I would have been happy to illustrate if I had my sketchbook.

I remembered that Frank and I did nothing yesterday, and realized that we kind of needed to exchange phone numbers and project ideas. As much as I didn’t want to, I felt as if my grade was more important than my hatred for the person next to me, and I asked him for his phone number.

“W-what?” He said, shocked.

“Give me your phone number.” I repeated.

“And why would I do that?” He asked.

“Because we need to keep in contact outside of class for the project, dumbass.”

“O-oh.” He said, not making an effort to give me his phone number. I cleared my throat, but he just glared back at me obviously annoyed.

“Your number?” I reminded him.

“Oh, fuck, yeah. Okay-“

“Please don’t say that in front of me.” I said calmly.

“Say what?”

“The F-word.” Frank stared back at me disbelievingly. “What can I say? I just don’t appreciate that kind of language.”

“I- I just,” Frank was saying. He had a dumbfounded expression on his face, blinking slowly as if to capture the stupidity he thinks he sees.

“This is insane.”

“This isn’t insane, not giving somebody back their sketchbook is.”

“I don’t have your fucking sketchbook.”

“Language.”

“What the fuck, Gerard?” Frank jumped back. I just sighed. “Why was your hand on my knee?”

“What?”

“Your hand was on my fucking knee!” I hadn’t noticed because it’s something I do subconsciously when I’m trying to lecture somebody. Great, first, I kiss him, and then I grope him. What’s next? Sex?

I started blushing and turned away. “A-anyways, we, um, kind of, have to, um, start the project.” I stuttered, looking down at the floor with my hair covering my face.

“Yeah.” He said and wrote down his number on a scratch piece of paper as I did the same. Our hands touched as he passed me the paper, and I almost didn’t want to let go of the complete contradiction that his hand was. It was rough and callused, yet soft. Strong, yet gentle. Warm, yet his touch sent shivers down my spine.

We started talking about what our project should be on, but neither of us could come up with a good idea, so we decided to use Mr. Hatcher’s suggestion of magnets. By the end of the period, I totally wasn’t enjoying our conversation, and I totally wasn’t wishing the period could last longer, and I totally wasn’t imagining Frank’s hands in mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite chapter, but it'll do. But let me know what you thought.
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	7. Chapter 6

**FRANK**

Things were bad from the words “give me your phone number.”

Not only was I a stuttering mess the entire period, but Gerard was suspecting me of having his sketchbook, and he told me to stop cussing, and he put his _fucking hand on my knee_. Who does that?

But soon enough science was over. I’ll admit, it felt kind of good to have the beginning plans for our project, but other than that, science class was still absolute hell. I made my way to the band room for my next period, grabbed my saxophone out of its locker, and shut myself in a practice room for the whole period. I completely missed the lesson, but I didn’t care, because I had Gerard’s sketchbook.

I pulled it out of my backpack and opened it up. “Oh, cool. A skeleton,” I said. This thing was wearing a marching band uniform, which was ironic for two reasons. One, I’m in band. He knows that and hates it. Two, he’s in choir, which I’m pretty sure is the most gay thing you could possibly do. I mean, not to insult any choir kids out there, but choir is insane. What person in their right mind would ever willingly put themselves through that amount of torture? I mean, some school choirs are okay, but not ours. We have to sing songs about caterpillars.

Fucking _caterpillars_.

But hey, the drawing wasn’t that bad.

I turned the page and came face-to-face with some weird-ass drawing of a guy and girl. They were looking at each other and covered in blood. I’m not sure how else to describe it, other than odd but somewhat interesting. He had it titled “demolition lovers/three cheers for sweet revenge” and it left me confused.

The next couple of drawings were of a desert setting, people running around in bright colors and shooting laser guns. They looked like something straight out of a comic book. I just had no idea what to make of it. This hipster was secretly a nerd.

That’s how I spent my second hour. Looking through my enemies’ sketchbook. (They actually weren’t that bad.) Yes, that’s all I was doing pertaining to Gerard. In no way, shape, or form was I thinking about his shirt or his talent or the way his hair falls over his eyes or how much of a secret nerd he is or his giggle or anything else, okay? Certainly not.

The first half of the day was over quickly. Lunch rolled around, I walked into the cafeteria for the second time that day, and I took up my usual spot with Pete and Patrick.

“Hey Frankie,” Pete said as I sat down.

“Please, for the love of God, never call me Frankie. Nope. Don’t do it. Never ever,” I responded.

“Oh Frankie, why must you be so controlling?”

“I will hit you.”

“Oh yeah?”

I looked Pete in the eyes, then reached over and slugged him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” he exclaimed. “Frankie hurt me.”

I sighed, then rolled my eyes and pulled the sketchbook out of my bag.

“Holy smokes!” Patrick said. “Is that Way’s?”

“Um, yeah,” I responded, trying my best not to make fun of Patrick for saying ‘holy smokes’.

“How the hell did you manage?” Pete asked.

“He left it in science class yesterday. I looked through it during band.” I answered.

“And…?”

“They’re actually not that bad.”

That was obviously not the answer they were looking for.

“What do you mean ‘not that bad’?” Patrick was saying. “No! I will not let you live that way!”

“Guys, what are you talking about?” I said.

“You must not stoop down to please the enemy. You are stronger than that. I believe in you,” Pete responded.

“Guys, just because I complimented his work doesn’t mean I like him,” I retorted.

“Oh, we never said anything about liking,” Pete said. “You like him?”

“No!” I exclaimed. “I do not like Gerard Way! Especially not like that, oh my God. No. Never.”

“I feel like I should write this down,” Patrick said. He pulled out a pen and wrote down ‘I will never like Gerard Way’ on his napkin.

“Why?” I asked.

“So I can prove you wrong one day,” came Patrick’s response.

“You are never gonna prove me wrong, Patrick. I promise.”

“Ok, but just in case.”

I sighed for the thousandth time that afternoon and busied myself with the tray in front of me.

Then lunch was over, and on my way out the doors, I was shoved into somebody in front of me.

“Whoopsies,” I said, and the person scoffed.

“‘Whoopsies’?” they said, and only then did I realize that it was Gerard.

“Oh. Sorry,” I said, moving out of the way.

He just sighed and moved out of the way himself.

The rest of the day flew by, which is nice, except for the fact that when school ends I have to go home, and honestly, sometimes I prefer school to home, which is really saying something.

I stepped in the door and my head immediately started racing. _Okay, my mother is in the kitchen, which means if I cut through the back way I can loop around and avoid her. Oh wait, she’s on the phone. She wanders around on the phone. Maybe if I run for it I can make a straight shot to the stairs and then I could-_

I cut myself off. What kind of person has a home life so terrible that they need to map their route to their bedroom to avoid seeing their mother?

I hung my head a little and walked to the stairs.

“Hey Frankie,” my mother said. I waved a little in response.

Once in my room, I took the sketchbook back out of my backpack and set it on my desk. I was planning on looking through the rest of it later. I finished my homework fairly quickly, not because I’m smart, but just because I could care less about where x is.

Who put me in charge of the stupid x? I’m not friends with it. I’m not its family. I don’t give a shit about the x. Let it solve its own problems.

Anyway, dinner rolled around and I picked at the steak in front of me. Of course my mother wouldn’t listen when I told her I was a vegetarian. ‘Get over it Frankie, the animals were born to die. Stop being such a seven year old girl,’ is what she had told me. Now I just sat there, incredibly hungry but refusing to eat.

“How was your day today?” my mother asked me as if she actually cared.

“It was alright.”

“Nobody giving you crap, are they? You know you don’t deserve that stuff.”

If I was actually eating, then would’ve been the time to choke a little. I froze. She didn’t care. I didn’t matter to her.

“Nope. I’m fine. Just ran into Gerard a couple times is all.”

Back before my dad turned crazy and walked out, my mother and I had a pretty good relationship. Of course we fought every now and again, what kid doesn’t fight with their parents every so often, but other than that I enjoyed talking to her. I told her about Gerard when we first met and the rivalry first started, and she rolled her eyes along with me and ranted about how he didn’t know what he was doing. Of course, she still had the motherly part about her, and she encouraged me to not let him get the best of me, to never insult him too much, the classic stuff. I appreciated that a lot. But now it was gone.

“Oh, Gerard Way. Yeah. How’s that guy doing?”

“I don’t care,” I responded.

“He still gay?”

“Yes, mom. You can’t undo being gay.”

“Well sure you can. If you can decide to be gay, you can just as well un-decide. Being gay is a sin. Being gay is almost the worst of the worst. In the Bible, it says that all who are gay should be stoned to death. He calls it an ‘abomination’. Don’t you ever decide to be gay, Frankie. That’s a long and bad road.”

My head was racing for several reasons. “One, being gay is not a choice. Two, who is God if he doesn’t want you to love whoever you want to love? Isn’t that the point? To love all? Three, since when did you decide to be all Christian, and four, well why don’t you fucking stone me?”

I stood up so fast my chair almost fell over. I turned to leave, but then turned back around and slid my plate of untouched steak back at my mother. “I hope this wasted meal was worth the fucking life, mother,” I snarled, before storming up to my room and slamming the door.

I knew I was over-reacting. I knew it, and I also knew that I was acting like a two year old. I knew it and I hated myself for it. I hated that I had no control over it and I hated that I had to deal with this every single day.

“Fuck,” I said as I sat down on my bed. “Fuck.”

I was shaking and I couldn’t see straight. I hadn’t been this upset in a while. One part of me was asking if I had been defending Gerard back there, and while that may appear to be true, I knew the real reason.

I had been closeted for two and a half years now. I liked boys and there was nothing I could do about it. I had been in one relationship before over the internet, but she eventually found out I was talking to strangers and shut my account down, which was disappointing, to say the very least. I hated never being able to talk to him again or explain what happened. I’m just glad she never found out about the relationship. I might actually have to live on the streets.

Every Thanksgiving I’m forced to sit through a collective family lecture about the ‘sins of homosexuals’ and the ‘wrongdoing of gay lifestyles’. Not to mention the giant dead bird right in front of me that everybody was eating.

I turned on The Misfits and fell asleep right there, at seven pm.

That was mistake number one.

After getting the adequate seven hours of sleep required that I never usually get, I woke up again. Except it was only two am. And I was wide awake.

Mistake number two was fumbling in the dark for my cell phone.

Mistake number three was turning it on, and in my upset and confused haze of sudden light illuminating from the screen, typing in Gerard’s phone number.

Mistake number four was texting him. ‘hey, you up? it’s frank.’

Only after the message had been sent did I realize what a huge idiot I was. I noticed the lack of music, and determined that my mother must have come in and turned it off.

Mistake number five was checking the response.

‘yeah. hi, cutie.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad y'all are liking this so far. Just know, the next couple of chapters get a bit heavy. I was in a bad state of mind when they were written and that really shows. Anyways, your comments make me smile so much it makes my face sore and my mother look at me funny. So please help me get as many odd looks from my mother as you can!
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	8. Chapter 7

**GERARD**

I woke up the next morning to the sound of the alarm blaring. I had a hard time getting to sleep, but I assumed I had passed out around one. I unplugged my phone from its charger and looked over at Mikey, still asleep in his bed on the other side of the room. That kid could sleep through anything. I swear, a bomb could go off in our living room and he still wouldn’t wake up.

I pulled on some pants and buttoned up my shirt before going over to him, grabbing the air horn I kept under his bed, and honking it right in his ear. He swung out his arm, narrowly missing my balls, and grumbled something about how I deserved something. I had stopped the air horn and was about to ask him about it when my mom called us down for breakfast. I forgot about it and made my way down the stairs, Mikey trudging along behind me.

I am not a morning person. My day doesn’t start until I have my coffee, and even then, I’m still pretty grumpy until about ten o’clock. Now, if you think that’s bad, Mikey is worse. He will actually sock you in the nose if you try to talk to him before eight and if you try to wake him up earlier than six, then may God have mercy on your soul.

My brother and I headed straight for the coffee machine, filling up two large mugs before sitting down at the kitchen table and eating breakfast. My father was reading the newspaper and my mom was in the other room, taking a business call.

The thing you should know about my family is that we don’t really acknowledge each other much. I think it’s because we’re all so busy all the time. Mikey theorizes that our parents just don’t want to be around us because we’re both gay. While our parents don’t mind who we’re attracted to, I could tell they were both very disappointed in us when we came out to them. It’s hard knowing that you’re a constant disappointment to your family, but somehow Mikey and I manage.

Mikey and I finish getting ready and we’re out the door and on our way to school. I made sure we wouldn’t be too early today.

When we arrived at school, instead of running off to his freshman friends right away, he hung around with me, asked me about some of the seniors. He took a special interest in a guy I think is called Pete. It made me uncomfortable having to talk about Pete because I’m pretty sure he’s one of Frank’s friends. Mikey could tell, and I knew he was enjoying watching me squirm. The bell rang and before he left, Mikey eerily told me to “have fun in science.” I don’t know what he was playing at, but I was very suspicious of my science class now.

 

*****

 

When Frank walked in the classroom door, everything about him screamed “nervous.”

“Hey, Gerard.” He blushed as he sat down. This is weird, I’m uncomfortable, and Frank looks really cute when he’s blushing.

Wait, what? Did I just really call Frank Iero _cute_?

“So, um, about last night…” He trailed off. I just stared at him. _Last night? What happened last night?_ “When we were texting?” He tried to remind me, seeing my confusion.

“I never texted you last night.” I replied, very concerned for Frank’s mental health.

“Yeah, you did. At two, remember?”

“Um, I fell asleep at one and I’m pretty sure I don’t text people in my sleep.”

“Uh, well, I have our texts right here on my phone…” He said and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen a bit before handing it to me to read.

‘hey, you up? it’s frank.’

‘yeah. hi, cutie.’

‘uhm.’

‘you looked really nice in science earlier.’

‘uuuhmmmm…’

‘sorry, am i making you uncomfortable?’

‘uh, well. we kind of hate each other.’

‘can’t we move past that?’

‘it’s gonna take a bit more than early morning texts to convince me that you no longer hate me.’

‘i no longer hate you. as a matter of fact, i love everything about you.’

‘gerard, are you okay? you’re weirding me out.’

‘your eyes, your hands, your hair, your face, your giggle, your sense of humor, everything.’

‘uh.’ ‘really. don’t you like me too?’

‘uhm. i mean. you can be funny sometimes. and your shirts look nice and stuff. your smile. and- no. no. i don’t like you that way.’

‘do you still hate me?’

‘you irritate me to no end! you’re a hipster. that bothers me.’

‘hm. well i guess i’ll see you tomorrow, then.’

I froze. I didn’t write these. _ABORT. ABORT. ABORT._ Every cell in my body was yelling at me. Every hair on my skin was standing on edge. Every thought was full of worry.

And then I realized Mikey was behind all of this. This is why he told me to “have fun.” He is soooo dead when I get my hands on him.

“Gerard?” Frank asked, his silk-like voice was filled with concern.

“This wasn’t me.” I said with close to no emotion in my voice.

“Well, if it wasn’t you, then who was it?” Frank said, getting angry.

“My brother.” I stated. I needed my sketchbook right now. I reached in my desk, blindly searching for it. Then I remembered. I didn’t have it. Frank did. “Sketchbook. Now.” I demanded. I wanted to sound angry, but the emotion just wasn’t there. I was numb. Shut down. Whether it was from complete embarrassment because of the texts, pure rage because of Mikey, the sense of loss and anxiety I’ve been having since I lost my sketchbook, or a combination of all three, I wasn’t able to handle it, and I needed my sketchbook to help.

“I’ve told you, I don’t have your damn sketchbook.” Frank answered. I knew he was lying. I knew it and I hated him for it. This was just like middle school all over again.

 

*****

 

The rest of the day went by in an emotionless blur. I don’t remember much of it, but I’m pretty sure I skipped out on lunch and headed for the library. After school, I headed to my job at the record store after dropping Mikey and Ray off.

Rick, the store owner and the only other person that works there, is a family friend. He offered me this job to help me save up for art school next year, and because Rick is such a great guy, he gave me the last three days off to help me “get back into the swing of school.” Of course I had to go work on the day I felt like I didn’t have the energy or emotional stability to do anything.

I painted a fake smile on my face before entering the store.

“Hey, there, Gerard. Nice to see ya back here.” Rick greeted me.

“Yeah. What do you need me to do?” I asked, trying not to sound as broken as I felt.

“I got some new stuff in yesterday and I need you to take inventory. I’ll man the front.” Yes, the back. The back is good. I don’t have to talk to people in the back.

I started walking to the back of the store when I heard the bells above the door chime, signifying that someone had come into the store. Normally, I wouldn’t have looked to see who it was, but for whatever reason I turned around this time, only to see the last thing I wanted to see. Frank and his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot how much I love the next few chapters. The secondhand embarrassment nearly killed me. Thank you guys so much for commenting and all the kudos, they really make my day. I'll see y'all again soon!
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	9. Chapter 8

**FRANK**

I’d like to say what time I fell asleep, except I didn’t.

I was too busy reading and rereading the texts I had been sharing with Gerard. What had gotten into him? I didn’t want to say anything about the feelings that were probably definitely not even there, and to be honest, I wasn’t embarrassed. I was just nervous. I felt awful about not reciprocating the feelings, and his apparent disappointment was enough to depress me for days. I was nervous when I received the messages, I was nervous when I walked into class the next day, I was nervous all throughout the rest of the day.

Something was obviously very, very wrong with Gerard.

I’m assuming it was about the loss of his sketchbook, which is yet another reason to make me feel like a giant dick. Yes, I had taken it. Yes, I had had it. I just… didn’t anymore.

I had lost Gerard Way’s dumbass sketchbook and I felt horrible because of it.

I swear, it was in my backpack one morning and then it wasn’t. I freaked out because of it. I didn’t know what had happened to it or who had it. All I knew is that I had messed up yet again, and this time, I could see the effects it had on people right away.

When I walked into class the next day, Gerard looked terrible. He looked like he hadn’t slept or eaten in days, his (gorgeous) (wait no) hair looked unkempt, his eyes were red, everything about him screamed ‘upset’, and I knew exactly why. It was that goddamn sketchbook.

“Um, about last night…” I trailed off when I realized it wasn’t registering. “When we were texting?” I tried again.

Wow. I must say, even though I was warming up to him, he sure did still get on my nerves. How do you forget words like those?

“I never texted you last night,” Gerard deadpanned.

My blood ran cold. “Yeah you did. At two, remember?” I tried.

“Um. I fell asleep at one, and I’m pretty sure I don’t text people in my sleep,” he said.

Now I was just confused. “Well, I have the texts right here on my phone. See?” I showed him the text conversation and watched his face go from confusion to complete lack of emotion. And that’s the worst, I think. When everything gets so bad you just shut down. Can’t be bothered. Everything just gets too much and you can’t feel anything at all. I knew that feeling all too well, and I could see it in his eyes.

“Gerard?” I asked after a moment.

“This wasn’t me,” he said again.

“Well if it wasn’t you, who was it?” I asked.

“My brother.”

Oh, Mikey. The one Pete likes. I wasn’t too happy with Mikey, even though I didn’t know the kid. Messing around like that, no matter how much I hated them, wasn’t right.

I saw Gerard fumble around in his desk for a moment before deflating even more than he already was and snapping at me for his sketchbook.

“I’ve told you, I don’t have your damn sketchbook,” I responded and immediately regretted it because of the look that was on Gerard’s face.

“Okay, whatever,” he sighed, and he went back to keeping to himself. This was gonna be a long science class.

The rest of the time went by with quiet conversation and tension so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. There had to be some way I could make this up to him. When class let out, Gerard left pretty fast, and I still had no idea what I was going to do. I spent the rest of the school day in a mild panic, because I knew better than most what those kinds of emotions could do to a person.

 

*****

 

I didn’t pay much attention to Pete and Patrick for the first bit of lunch. Now, I’m the type to usually keep to themselves, so I don’t really pay much attention to them anyway, but it was bad today. They noticed and questioned me on it.

“What’s wrong?” Patrick asked, the concern apparent in his voice.

“Oh, nothing,” I said, trying to avoid his staring.

“When you say nothing’s wrong, something’s wrong,” Pete countered, and, well, that was a good point.

“Just worried about someone is all,” I muttered.

“Who?” They both asked. This is not the question I would’ve liked to answer, but I knew they were just going to keep asking until I cracked, so I told them.

“I’m worried about Gerard,” I said in the smallest voice possible.

My friends just looked at me for a long while. I think they were torn between ‘wow, what a good guy, being worried about people’ and ‘Frank what the fuck you hate that guy’. And I didn’t blame them. That’s what I was thinking as well.

“He’s torn up about his sketchbook, I think,” I said in a somehow smaller voice than before. Pete looked uncomfortable.

“Uh, that old thing…” he started to say.

“What?” I asked.

“Um, Gerard Way’s sketchbook. Yeah. That’s kind of at my house.”

“What! Why?” I questioned through my shock. “That’s so weird. What.”

Patrick was laughing. “He made me steal it out of your backpack one day and run it over to his house. He wanted to keep you from succumbing to liking Gerard,” he explained.

“Why did you have to do it?” I asked Patrick.

“He told me that because of my fedora you wouldn’t be able to tell it was me. You know, what with it hiding my face and all.”

I froze. “Pete,” I started to say, “You’re a fucking idiot. You really think that I wouldn’t have been able to tell it was Patrick? The only kid in the school that still messes with fedoras?”

“Well, that’s not very nice, Frank,” Patrick chastised.

“Who cares?” I asked him. “Pete, I’m gonna want that sketchbook back tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever,” he responded, still bright red from the realization about Patrick’s hat.

We ate in silence for a little while, until Pete started to talk about a somewhat new record store close to the school that he found the other day.

“Sounds fun,” I said as the bell rang. “Meet you by my locker after school?”

“Sure,” they both said, and we went our separate ways.

 

*****

 

The bells above the door chimed as we entered. Pete had taken us to a record store called ‘Rick’s Records’, and from the looks of it, it was a rad place. All of us gasped upon arrival, but for different reasons. I gasped because of all the music, Pete and Patrick gasped because they saw something I didn’t.

Gerard worked at the record store Pete brought us to.

I turned to Gerard and we locked eyes. “You,” I said under my breath.

“What are you-?” he started to say.

“I thought I didn’t have to put up with you anymore today,” I said.

We stayed like that, focused on each other, for a long time, until Pete awkwardly cleared his throat.

“I feel like I’ve been caught in a Mexican standoff,” he said.

I turned and glared at him. “Don’t you have something of his?” I asked him, the glint in my eyes very apparent.

“Oh, uhm, well, yeah. I mean, I- well, maybe if, um, I think, uh,” Pete stuttered out.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Gerard questioned.

“Oh, nothing. You’ll find out eventually,” I said in a singsongy voice.

Gerard rolled his eyes and left for the back.

Patrick, obviously uncomfortable, cleared his throat. “So, we’re leaving now, right?”

“Oh no,” I responded, more than ready for Gerard to come back. I had some things in mind.

“Oh Frank. You aren’t actually going to…” Pete stared to say.

“Oh yes,” I responded.

 

*****

 

Gerard came back out from the back a little while later, saw us still there shopping, and sighed. He looked uncomfortable. “You’re still here?” he questioned.

“Yup,” I said. I was looking around the store, taking in all the records that were scattered about, and noticed a small sign by the front desk.

**TREAT EVERY CUSTOMER WITH KINDNESS!! :)**

Oh yeah. This was going to be a good day.

“So, Gerard,” I started out saying, “What album would you recommend?”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, asshat-” he tried to say.

“Uh-uh. _Kindness_ ,” I said, pointing at the sign.

I felt the tension in the room grow thicker and Gerard visibly tensed up. He let out a pained sigh and clenched his jaw.

“Well, Frank,” he said again, “Everyone has a different music taste, and that’s perfectly okay. Personally, I like hanging out in the pop section over there.”

I was able to keep my mouth shut, but Gerard was cut off by a strangled choking noise that Pete was making in disgust. Gerard started to roll his eyes, but then stopped himself.

“ _Anyways_ , I was going to say that if that’s not you, cool. Maybe you’ll find yourself more at home in the death metal section, or maybe some punk rock. What’s that genre where the listeners make blood sacrifices and worship Satan?”

“Hey,” I snapped. “Don’t be an asshole. Number one, people that listen to that stuff are perfectly normal people, they don’t do any of that crazy shit you just described. Number two, I don’t even listen to that genre, and three,” I gestured towards the sign again.

“Oh, I wasn’t offending you, was I? Sorry, I wasn’t aware that you were capable of feeling things other than anger.”

I was the one to roll my eyes this time. “Whatever.”

Patrick and Pete had wandered off, and suddenly this big guy came up to Gerard and muttered something in his ear. Gerard nodded and the other guy left after slipping him something. Gerard put it in his pocket and acted like nothing had happened.

“What was that about?” I questioned.

“Why does it matter?” Gerard countered back.

I sighed and left that area, wandering around the shop, and making a pointed glare at Gerard when I picked up a Black Flag record. He seemed to be ignoring me and was taking quite an interest in his phone instead. Meanwhile, Pete was looking at some hip hop records and I was busing myself with punk rock. I looked up to make sure we hadn’t lost Patrick, and he was looking at…

Oh. Patrick wasn’t looking at records. Patrick was looking at Gerard.

Straight on, head on hands, lovestruck sigh- okay, maybe not that last part. But it definitely looked suspicious. I wandered over to him.

“Um, hey Patrick,” I said.

“Wha-? Oh, hi,” he said, snapping out of his 7th grade trance.

“What are you looking at?” I casually asked him.

“Oh, this-this record right here,” he said, blindly reaching behind him and pulling one into our line of sight.

I stifled a laugh. “Oh really? You were looking at that?” I said, and Patrick started blushing.

“Oh, uh- well, I mean, no- not, not really, it was more admiring the cover art, um,” Patrick started to say.

I took the Katy Perry record from him and put it back. “What were you really looking at?” I asked behind giggles.

Gerard looked up from his phone then, sending a glare in our direction, and Patrick started to stutter again. “I-I’ll tell you later,” he said, standing up and walking over to Pete.

 _Well, that was weird_ , I was thinking.

I couldn’t find any reason to stick around him, so I walked back up to the front desk and started back in on the teasing.

“So, how long have you worked here?” I asked.

“Well, it’s a new place. Rick is a family friend. I got the job when the place opened.”

“Oh, nice. You do know that a lot of metalheads come in here, right? A lot of punk rockers. People like that. Not people like you.”

He looked confused. “What are people like me?” he asked.

“Hipsters,” I said, looking him in the eyes. He immediately started defending himself.

“I am _not_ a hipster! Why does everyone always say that? Just because I look professional and approachable doesn’t mean I’m a hipster.”

“Oh. Okay. I wasn’t aware. I obviously need to get to know you better. Hey, what’s your favorite band?”

“Well, I quite enjoy Taylor Swift. I think the way she presents herself, whether that be in live shows or in interviews-”

I cut him off. “ _Taylor Swift_?”

“Yeah. That’s what I said. And Of Monsters and Men. And Imagine Dragons. And Walk The Moon. And-”

“And that’s all I need to hear. Favorite drink?”

“Coffee. Anything from Starbucks, really.”

“Favorite author?”

“John Green.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Anything Disney.”

“What do you do in your free time?”

“I draw. Or, I did. Before you stole my sketchbook.”

“That’s beside the point. Where do you shop?”

“Thrift stores, American Apparel, that kind of thing.”

“Favorite song lyric?”

He hesitated. “Well, I’ll tell you, but I doubt you’ve ever heard it. I’m not even sure who it’s from, the band is incredibly obscure. It’s ‘I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself.’”

I froze. That… that was Patrick and Pete’s band. They barely had any recognition and had only played a couple gigs. Actually, they didn’t even really have a band, it was just them goofing off and playing a few songs. But either way, that was them.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I-I think I’ve heard that once. I could be wrong, though.”

Gerard just nodded and went back to messing around with the desk.

“All that and you still don’t believe you’re a hipster?”

“Nope.”

I shrugged and started playing with the pens at the front desk.

“Could you not do that?” Gerard asked.

“I could, that doesn’t mean I will,” I said.

“Frank. Stop touching the pens.”

“Why? It’s not harming anything.”

“It’s harming my well-being.”

“Since when do I care about your well-being?”

I immediately regretted those words. I don’t think I’ve ever regretted words more. The look on his face was enough to silence me for a long while.

“Oh. I- I suppose that you’re right,” he said, and I felt like crying.

“Gerard,” I started.

“No. No, you’re, uh. You’re right. You’ve never really cared about me. Why should you start now?”

“No, but I do care about you,” I was trying to say.

“Don’t fake it. Please. I’m just being annoying and selfish. Please, just, no.”

I bit my tongue. I offered a small “I’m sorry,” and walked over to Pete.

“I think we should go,” I told him.

Patrick approached us as well, a small grin on his lips. “We leaving?” he asked, slightly disappointed.

“Uh, I guess,” said Pete, giving both Patrick and me confused looks.

I turned around to wave at Gerard, but he wasn’t interested. He was staring into space, looking like crap, which made me feel like crap.

“Why so soon?” Pete asked.

“No reason,” I said, feeling a bit deflated.

“Hm,” Pete said, and I turned to Patrick.

“So,” I started, “What’s that thing you were gonna tell me later?”

Patrick went red immediately. “Oh, yeah. I just- um, well, you know how maybe, well, I think, if, um, we were, I maybe, uh. I know this is later, but I’ll tell you more later.”

I stared at him. “Okay then.”

The rest of the journey home was spent pretty much in silence. We parted ways with a few hollow goodbyes, and I entered my house with spirits low.

I climbed into bed quietly despite the hour and played around on my phone. My fingers hovered over Gerard’s name for a while, before going to Patrick’s contact and sending him a bunch of question marks. His response, which I had been waiting for all day, was the last thing I would’ve expected.

‘I think I like Gerard.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this chapter! Let me know what you thought in the comments. And Happy Christmas Eve for those of you who celebrate it.
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	10. Chapter 9

**GERARD**

After I had finished in the back, I walked back out, hoping that Frank and his friends had left. Unfortunately for me, they hadn’t. Frank continued to tease me due to the stupid “treat customers with kindness” rule that I’m pretty sure Rick only has because he knows I’m not the nicest of people. What’s worse is that Rick left me alone to manage the store so he could take his kid to a doctor’s appointment. Normally I wouldn’t have minded, but today was the one day I didn’t want to be left alone in the store. Not with _them_.

I really needed a cigarette. I demanded one from Rick in return for manning the store, and he obliged. I slipped it in my pocket so I could smoke on my break.

I mostly played on my phone, doing my best to ignore the only other people in the store. I looked up every now and again just to make sure they weren’t breaking anything. The one in the fedora started creeping me out, though. He was just sitting there, staring at me, and then blushing and turning away whenever he realized I was looking back at him. Apparently Frank noticed, too, and went to confront him about it. I could hear very little of their hushed conversation, but what I did hear made my heart melt. It was the cutest giggle I had ever heard. It was so light and happy sounding. I was pretty sure it belonged to the fedora-wearing guy. I looked up then, trying to see if it really was Fedora Guy, but as soon as I turned my head in their direction, they stopped and Fedora Guy slunk back over to the guy I think is called Pete.

Frank walked up to me and started asking me questions. They were just random questions and I was really starting to get weirded out. That is, before he started playing with the pens at the front desk.

“Could you not do that?” I asked.

“I could, that doesn’t mean I will.” He said.

“Frank. Stop touching the pens.”

“Why? It’s not harming anything.”

“It’s harming my well-being.”

“Since when do I care about your well-being?” That’s right. Nobody cares about me. I had almost forgotten.

“Oh. I- I suppose that you’re right.” I stated.

“Gerard-” He started to say.

“No. No, you’re, uh. You’re right. You’ve never really cared about me. Why should you start now?”

“No, but I do care about you.” He was lying. After all, why would he care about _me_?

“Don’t fake it. Please. I’m just being annoying and selfish. Please, just, no.”

He went back to his friends and they left the store together. I just sat there for a few minutes after they had left. Why did Frank not caring about me hurt so much? It’s not like I expected him to care. We’re enemies for crying out loud! Who actually cares about their enemy?

The cigarette in my pocket started calling to me. I grabbed the lighter Rick kept in the front and put a sign on the door to let any potential customers know that I’d be right back, and then headed out to the alleyway beside the building. I lit the cancer stick that I held between my fingers and put it to my mouth, taking a long drag. I looked at the gray sky as the smoke swirled up from my lips.

 

*****

 

I had been without my sketchbook for three days and it was really starting to take its toll on me. Hayley suggested I buy a new one, Mikey told me to “just draw in another one of your stupid notebooks,” and my dad told me to just forget about it because “drawing is for girls.” I don’t think they realize, it’s not just about drawing, it’s about the sketchbook itself. It’s something that I can tell my emotions to and it won’t ridicule me. It’s something that knows just how to comfort me. It’s something that’s been a better friend to me than anyone else has. You see, when it’s three a.m. and the dark thoughts that three a.m. holds start to sink in, most people would talk to a friend or family member. When that happens, I draw in my sketchbook instead because I don’t _have_ a person I can talk to.

While it helps with depression, it also helps a lot with anxiety. I feel much more at ease when I watch the pencil glide across the page or when the drawing finally comes together.

Without my sketchbook, I was a mess, and I knew my friends could tell. Honestly, it would have been pretty hard not to suspect something was up with me. I just kind of stopped caring. I know it’s stupid to get this way over a sketchbook, but that sketchbook was my best friend.

I went to school the next day tired, depressed, and I looked like a complete slob. My eyes had dark circles under them, my hair stood straight up in random places on my head, my clothes looked like I got them out of a dumpster, and the smile that was normally on my face had disappeared.

I didn’t care that I had to sit next to Frank in first period. I just sat down and quietly did my work, discussing things with Frank here and there. The rest of the day was the same. I just didn’t care anymore. Not even choir or art could cheer me up, the two classes I actually kind of like.

Hayley dragged me to our table at lunch.

“Watch him. I don’t trust him by himself.” She commanded Andy and Ryan. They shared a concerned look between the two of them, but agreed and Hayley went to go get herself lunch.

“Eat.” Hayley demanded when she came back as she slid a tray of food in front of me.

“Not hungry.” I mumbled and slid the tray back.

“When was the last time you ate?” She questioned. I didn’t respond. “Exactly. Now eat.” She said, sliding the tray back to me.

“Not hungry.” I said again.

“Hayley, if he doesn’t want to eat, then don’t make him eat.” The previously silent Ryan shrugged.

“No, you don’t get it! Gerard, please eat!” She pleaded. I just stared at her as I was bombarded with memories I had tried for years to suppress.

Hayley and I had been friends since seventh grade. I had been the depressed loser no one wanted to talk to and she had been the new girl.

_I was sitting in the library at lunch, and she had come in a few minutes before the bell rang. I briefly looked up at the color-crayon-red haired girl before looking back down at the comic I held in my hands._

_“You know, I think Alfred is secretly a villain.” She sat down in front of me, nodding at my comic book._

_“Oh yeah?” I said. I tried to sound bored so she’d go away, but she didn’t get the hint._

_“Yeah. You know why?”_

_“I don’t know and I don’t care.” I replied in a monotone._

_“It’s because in all the movies, the villain is always the butler.” She said and scooted closer to me._

_“I’m gay.” I said and scooted away from her. Every time a girl talked to me, it was because they fancied me. While that might be awesome for some guys, it just made me uncomfortable._

_“And?” She scoffed._

_“And, are you going to kick me in the stomach or just sit there and make small talk?”_

_“Why would I kick you?” She asked._

_“Because that’s what most people do.” I explained slowly, in case she was a bit slow._

_“Well, I’m not most people. I’m Hayley.” She responded and stuck out her hand. I set down my comic and cautiously shook her hand._

_“Gerard.” I said as the bell started to ring. The next day she came into the library-_ again, _and sat down in front of me-_ again.

_“You weren’t in the cafeteria.” She stated_

_“I noticed.” I said sarcastically._

_“Why?”_

_“’Cause I’d prefer to read.”_

_“But what about lunch?” She questioned._

_“What about lunch?” I parroted._

_“When do you eat?”_

_“I don’t.” I stated quietly._

_“Why?”_

_“I’m just not hungry, okay?” I huffed._

_“Why not?”_

_“Just drop it, Hayley.” I said, obviously irritated._

_“You remembered my name!” She exclaimed._

_“Shh!” The librarian warned._

_“Sorry!” She whisper-yelled. I giggled a bit._

_“Did you just_ giggle _?” She directed at me._

_“Yeah. So?”_

_“Who actually_ giggles _?” She mocked me._

_“Well, clearly I do.” I defended myself. We joked around a bit more until the librarian kicked us out for being too loud._

_We were forced outside onto the field, and I started panicking. The kids who liked to hurt me were out here and I didn’t want to have to explain to my family why I had another black eye._

_Hayley noticed. She took me to the side and sat me down in the grass, away from the other kids._

_“Gerard, what’s going on? How can I help you?” She said sternly, a tone of voice that didn’t suit her care-free style._

_“They-they-they’re gonna beat me up a-again!” I stuttered, trying to regain the ability to breathe._

_“No they’re not. You wanna know why?” I nodded my head. “’Cause I’m your friend, and I’m not gonna let them.”_

_I never had many friends. And in middle school, the ones I did have left me for other people they had more of a “connection” with. I never bothered making new ones. It would have been impossible anyways, because one of my old friends had decided to tell everyone I was gay. That didn’t settle well with the kids at my school and I was getting beat up regularly._

_From that point on, Hayley would eat her lunch, and then come find me in the library, and every day she’d ask me why I didn’t eat, and every day I’d tell her to drop the subject. And honestly, I was happier than I had been in a long time._

_“Do you have an eating disorder?” She asked me one day._

_“What?!” I choked._

_“’Cause I looked online to try and figure out why you don’t eat and that’s what came up.”_

_“Hayley, I do not have an eating disorder.” I stated._

_“Okay, then why don’t you eat?” I stayed silent. “Exactly. Now, you are going to sit with me and eat_ something _tomorrow or-“ She grabbed the sketchbook that was sitting beside me. “You won’t get your sketchbook back.”_

_Terror gripped at my throat. “Hayley, give me my sketchbook back!”_

_“Nope!” She said, and ran away. I didn’t see where, nor did I see her for the rest of the day._

_The next day, I looked equally as bad, if not worse, than I did today. I was nervous as I looked for Hayley. I eventually found her and sat down in front of her._

_“C-can I-I have my, um, my sketchbook back now?” I stuttered._

_“Nope.” She said like it was nothing. “I need to see you eat first.” She handed me an apple. I held it in my hand and just stared at it. It had been two weeks since I last ate. Three weeks before that. I was hungry, but I didn’t want to eat. My stomach growled at me, but I was still afraid of eating the apple. “Gerard, you either eat the apple, or you don’t get your sketchbook back.” Realizing what was at stake, I took a small bite from the apple. As promised, Hayley took my sketchbook from beside her and slid it across the table. The apple fell out of my hand and rolled against the table as I grabbed my sketchbook and hugged it to my chest. “You know, you look awful.” Hayley remarked._

_“Well no duh!”_

_“Why?” She questioned. And I told her everything. I don’t know why, but I felt like I could trust her. She listened as I told her my tale of woe._

I had been able to talk to Hayley about my problems for a while, but then we started high school, I met Andy and Ryan, and I was happier than ever. Hayley was so happy for the both of us, and I didn’t want to let my stupid depression get in the way of her happiness, so I just stopped telling her what was going on.

“Gerard!” She shouted at me, pulling me from my trance. I looked at her as she held out an apple for me. She obviously remembered, too. I grabbed the apple and took a small bite.

“Can I have my sketchbook back now?” I asked bitterly, staring her straight in the eyes before standing up and going to the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I haven't updated! I was away from my computer the last couple of days, but I'm posting all the chapters you're owed today. But of course, comment down below and I'll see you soon.
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	11. Chapter 10

**FRANK**

The worst thing in the world is seeing someone with sad eyes. When a person smiles and it still looks like World War III is going on inside their head. It’s the type of sad where you’re too sad to cry and too tired to sleep. It’s the type of sad that will fester for years without you knowing it. It’s the type of sad that eats you from the inside until you can’t stand the slow devouring of your mind and start to speed up the process by hurting yourself on the outside.  
This was the type of sad I saw in Gerard’s eyes.

He was still Gerard, but at the same time, he wasn’t. He was still an annoying hipster, but at the same time, he was too disheveled, too run-down, to be the bubbly personality I’ve come to know and hate.

When he walked into science, his hair was all messed up and he looked very tired. He was quiet all period and while we did get a decent amount of work done for the first time all week, it was weird to see him so robotic.

I knew I had to get his sketchbook back to him. If Pete didn’t have it today, I was going to kill him.

The bell rang and Gerard left without a word, taking my heart with him.

*****

“Do you have it?” I asked Pete as I sat down at our lunch table.

“Have what?” He responded before taking a bite of his pizza.

“The sketchbook, dumbass!” I raged.

“Jeez Frank, calm down. He has it in his locker.” Patrick said in place of the full-mouthed Pete.

“Okay. Good. I don’t have any more classes with him, so we’ll stop by the record store afterschool and give it to him then. Got it?”

“Sure thing. But then you have to come to my house afterwards.” Pete bargained after he finally swallowed.

“Fine. Whatever.”

“As much as I would love to go with you guys, I can’t. So you’ll have to do it without me.” Patrick chimed in.

“What? Why?” I questioned.

“Because.”

“Because isn’t an answer.” Pete prompted.

“It’s totally an answer.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it-“

“Shut the fuck up!” I interrupted, not wanting to be forced to listen to the childishness that would otherwise pursue. That’s when I saw Gerard scurry past our table and into the library.

His red haired friend (Harriet? Hannah?) came up and whispered something into Pete’s ear.

“But Haaayleeey!” He whined and she shushed him. She whispered something to him again and he reluctantly agreed to whatever it was she had said.

“What was that about?” Patrick and I said as soon as she left for the library.

“She was letting me know she’s bringing one of her friends home today.” He shrugged.

“And why would she be telling you this?” I asked. Seriously, you can’t just have a random girl walk up and start talking to you and not expect your friends to ask you questions.

“Because she’s my step-sister?” He replied.

“Since when do you have a step-sister?” It was a fair question, after all, he’s never told me about any siblings.

“Uh, since last year when my dad married her mom. Remember, I was all bummed out about having to wear a suit?” I completely forgot about that.

“Yeah. I totally remembered. I don’t forget things. What are you talking about?” I joked.

“You forgot.”

“I forgot.”

“Fuck you, Iero. Doesn’t even remember my sister’s name.” Pete pretended to be upset

“Whatever, Wentz.”

“I’m here, too!” Patrick added in to our banter.

“We know, Stumpy.” Pete laughed.

*****

Pete and I walked into Rick’s and scanned the room. The only signs of life were the big guy at the counter and two girls giggling in the back corner.

“You back again so soon?” The guy said. I didn’t think he’d recognize us.

“I uh, um, we were, uh, is, um, Gerard, uh,-“ I forgot how to form a proper sentence and the sounds of laughing girls wasn’t helping.

“What he’s trying to say is, ‘is Gerard here?’ We have something of his.” Pete said for me.

“Sorry guys, he just called in sick.”

“Shit.” I muttered under my breath. I knew he wasn’t sick and he didn’t seem like the type of guy that would take a sick day just for the hell of it.

“Alright, thanks anyway.” Pete said and we walked out of the store to his house.

I pulled out my earbuds and handed one to Pete. He put it into his ear and I was very glad that we were the same height so that we could have an equal opportunity to listen to the sweet sounds of Good Charlotte and Blink-182.

*****

When I walked into Pete’s house, the first thing I noticed how neat it was. It looked like one of those homes in Better Living Magazine and I felt out of place standing there. This is not the kind of place I pegged Pete living in.

The next thing I noticed was a shirtless, very attractive, blond guy smoking with his back turned to me out on Pete’s back porch. His hair was obviously recently bleached and wet, and he desperately needed a haircut, but he was attractive nonetheless. Like honestly, had he seen himself? Broad shoulders and a cigarette in hand, he was enough to stop me in my tracks and wish for the life of me that he was cute on the front, too.

And that’s when he turned around.

And that’s when my heart stopped.

And that’s when I realized that yes, the person is indeed very attractive on the front, no matter how many times I denied it. There was no backing out now, this is just a beautiful human.

And that’s when I felt like throwing up, because this person was the one and only Gerard Way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized I fucked the timing. It's supposed to be after Spring Break during 4th quarter/second semester. I'm sorry if that wasn't clear. Despite that, let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	12. Chapter 11

**GERARD**

“That’s what this is about? Your sketchbook?” Hayley whispered violently at me when she found me sitting on the floor of the library, reading the first comic I just happened to pick up.- I sighed and put the comic down on the floor beside me. “No, it’s not just about my sketchbook.”

“Then what _is_  it about?” She said as she crouched down to be eye-level with me.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well too bad, we’re talking about it.” How could I explain to her that I feel I can’t tell anyone what’s going on inside my head? That she’s my best friend, but I keep secrets from her?

“Hayley, please.” I begged. I don’t know what I was begging for exactly, maybe I was hoping she’d understand without me having to say anything, but I put more emotion in those two words than any other thing I had said in the last few days.

“Fine.” She sighed and sat down next to me. She absent mindedly started playing with my hair, twisting the too-long strands around her fingers. “We should re-dye your hair.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s been black for too long. You need some color.”

“Well, while I’d love to have you mess up my hair today, but I have work, so I’ll have to take a rain check.”

“Mm, but you’re not feeling well. You can’t go into work if you’re sick.”

“Hayley Williams! Are you suggesting I skip work?” I mocked surprise. We both knew Rick would be fine with me skipping a day occasionally as long as I made up the time over the weekend.

“That is exactly what I’m saying.”

That was exactly what we did. I called in “sick” to work, throwing in a bad fake cough so that Rick knew I was just taking a personal day, and we waited in the car for my brother and his boyfriend.

Mikey came to the car and slid in the back seat mumbling something about Ray getting a ride with someone else. I gave Hayley a knowing glance and after the ten minute talk it took to get from the school to our house, we found out that Ray had dumped him. Mikey was heartbroken. He said he just wanted to be left alone to deal with it by himself for a while, so we dropped him off, and we headed over to Hayley’s place.

I don’t go over to her house very often anymore since her and her mom moved in with her step-dad and his son. That being said, I always forget how clean it is. Her mom is a designer, so of course, it always looks nice, but it always surprises me for a second.

We put our backpacks in Hayley’s room because I was too stupid to think of asking Mikey to take mine into the house and we head to the hall bathroom. Hayley ran the sink while I took off my shirt so I wouldn’t get dye all over it, and after a brief wash, she bleached out my hair.

It was weird to look in the mirror and see my normally black hair now an unnatural blond.

Hayley grabbed an ashtray and two cigarettes from the box her step-dad kept in his office, and we headed out on her back porch to talk and smoke while we waited for my hair to be ready to dye.

“You know, I was never told what color you were dying my hair.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh, surprise is my favorite color.” I replied sarcastically.

“Shut up.” She giggled.

“Make me.” I winked and we laughed. We joked around a bit more and I finally was beginning to feel okay again. After a while, Hayley went back to the bathroom to get the dye ready and I stayed outside finishing my cigarette. I turned around thinking I had heard her shuffling around in the house, but instead I saw _him_. Of course, _he_  was here.

Frank Iero, my personal stalker.

And in his hand was my sketchbook. I was pissed.

I snubbed out the cigarette and stormed into the house.

“Gerard!” He seemed surprised.

“You filthy liar! I knew you had it. Give it back before I kick your ass.” I seethed.

“Woah, what’s going on?” Hayley asked as she entered the living room. “Frank? Pete what’s-“

“We were going to give back Gerard’s sketchbook so we headed to his store but he wasn’t there so Frank and I walked home I didn’t think you would be bringing him home today or we would’ve gone somewhere else.” Pete rushed out.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Just give me my sketchbook and give us some space and we’ll be good.”

Frank handed over the sketchbook and Hayley and I retreated into the bathroom. I flipped through the pages to find almost everything still looking just fine, except a few of the pages were ripped out.

I raged out of the bathroom and went to find Frank, Hayley worriedly following me.

“Iero! Where are they?” I demanded when I found the two of them still in the living room.

“Where are what?” He asked as if he were oh-so innocent.

“The drawings! Where are the drawings?”- “They should be in your book.” He tried to act nonchalant, but failed to hide his shaking hands.

“Well, they’re not. And guess who had them last.”

“I don’t have your fucking drawings!” He was getting angry now.

“I don’t either so I guess we have quite the dilemma here, don’t we?”

“They’re just drawings, Gerard. Calm down.” Hayley tried to soothe me.

“Just drawings? Just drawings!” I repeated. “They’re not ‘just drawings’ Hayley!”

“Gee, come on. Chill, and let’s get back to dying your hair. ‘Cause I’m not letting you walk out of here looking like _that_. Then you can storm off back to your house, okay?” Hayley replied.

I took a deep breath. “Fine.”

We walked back to the bathroom when a thought occurred to me. “Wait, why are they in your house?”

“Pete’s my step-brother, remember?” She seemed annoyed.

“Oh! I though his name was Parker or something.”

“Parker?” She laughed. “What kind of a name is _Parker_?”

“It’s a name for people who like to go to the park?” I playfully guessed.

After a while of dying and then letting the dye sit, she finally rinsed my hair out.

“Let me see! Let me see!” I bounced up and down like a toddler. She rolled her eyes before telling me she wasn’t done yet. I fake pouted and she began to work on cutting and drying my hair.

“There, now you’re done.” She concluded. I jumped out of the chair I had been sitting in and turned around to face the mirror.

Red. _Really_  red.

It wasn’t bad, just _different_. Not something I would have chosen for myself.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s really bright.” Really bright was an understatement. It looked like I was a human beacon. But I like to think it suited me.

“Good, I’m glad. Now you have a choice. Stay here or go home.”

“Umm,” I started as I put my shirt back on. “I should head back; make sure Mikey’s okay, y’know?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Give him a hug for me.”

“I will if he’ll let me.” I replied as I headed down the hall to grab my stuff.

As I passed by one of the doors in the hallway, I heard a loud _bang_. I paused and backed up.

“Sorry, I didn’t know your bed moved.” I heard a faint voice say from behind the door, probably Frank’s.

I heard what was probably Pete mumble something in the form of a question. I was about to walk off when I heard Frank’s answer.

“I don’t know. He’s really attractive, I can’t deny that, but it’s _Gerard_. I can’t be crushing on _Gerard_.” I ran down the hallway as fast as I could, grabbed my stuff, and headed out the front door as fast as I could without so much as a “goodbye” to Hayley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so excited to write this chapter! But, this is the last one for today as I only have one more pre-written chapter, which means updates won't be regular, there will be long hiatuses in between each chapter, and that you'll have to wait longer on cliff-hangers. But, I really hope you keep reading and commenting.
> 
> Stay Alive. Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	13. Chapter 12

**FRANK**

“Gerard!” His name escaped my lips as a very angry, very shirtless, Gerard stormed in from the porch.

“You filthy liar! I knew you had it. Give it back before I kick your ass.” He seethed. I was too shocked to understand what he meant.

“Woah, what’s going on?” Pete’s step-sister asked as she entered the living room. “Frank? Pete what’s-“

“We were going to give back Gerard’s sketchbook so we headed to his store but he wasn’t there so Frank and I walked home I didn’t think you would be bringing _him_ home today or we would’ve gone somewhere else.” Pete interrupted.

“Just give me my sketchbook and give us some space and we’ll be good.” Gerard said, his beautifully pained green eyes burned into my soul. I handed over his sketchbook, still too shocked to speak, and he and his red-haired friend went back down what I guessed was a hallway.

“Well, I was not expecting that. You okay, Frank?” Pete broke the short-lived silence. I just nodded my head. Gerard came back out just a few moments later, his friend following close behind him.

“Iero! Where are they?” He barked.

“Where are what?” I asked, still slightly dazed.

“The drawings! Where are the drawings?” Right. Drawings, sketchbook. I was starting to come to my senses now.

“They should be in your book.” I tried to be sarcastic, but I was getting really angry really fast. I almost didn’t notice my shaking hands.

“Well, they’re not. And guess who had them last.”

“I don’t have your fucking drawings!” I was shouting back now. How dare he accuse me of having his stupid drawings! What would I do with them anyways?

“I don’t either so I guess we have quite the dilemma here, don’t we?” He sassed.

“They’re just drawings, Gerard. Calm down.” Pete’s step-sister interrupted. I could tell by the look on his face that was the wrong thing to say to Gerard just then.

“Just drawings? Just drawings! They’re not ‘just drawings’ Hayley!” Hayley looked hurt to say the least. I doubted Gerard snapped at her often so I sent a sympathetic look her way.

“Gee, come on. Chill, and let’s get back to dying your hair. ‘Cause I’m not letting you walk out of here looking like _that_. Then you can storm off back to your house, okay?” Her voice was slightly watery like she might start crying. I wanted to go and give her a hug or _something_ because she did not deserve to be yelled at. Especially not while trying to comfort someone else.

Gerard’s chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath and finally let out a way too bitter “Fine.”

They headed back down the way they came as Pete and I just continued to stand there.

“Wow.” I finally concluded.

“Wow indeed.” Pete agreed. He started walking towards a kitchen hidden behind a breakfast bar. I followed suit and soon he was handing me a soda from his open fridge. He nudged the door shut and grabbed four cookies from a jar on the counter behind us, handing me two of them. I accepted his offer and we talked and joked about Gerard’s outburst as we ate our snack.

After we’d finished, we went down the hall the other two had disappeared into. I heard laughter coming from behind one of the doors and I wanted to go find out what was so funny, but Pete stopped us at the door just before the one I wanted to be in front of.

Behind Pete’s door was where all the mess I had expected to see originally lived. I though my room was bad but I couldn’t see his _floor_.

“Yeah, sorry about the mess.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Mess? I can’t tell what’s room and what’s trash!” I teased.

“You sound just like my step-mom!” He joked back. We ended up having to play hopscotch in order to move around his room, which then turned into a game of “the floor is lava” because we are as mature as newborn babies.

“Y’know Franklin,” Pete started as he jumped from the pillow he had been on to the pile of dirty shirts I was standing on.

“Yes Peter?” I responded.

“I saw the way you were looking at Gerard earlier and I think someone has a crush.” He said in a sing-song voice.

“I- what?” I do _not_ like _Gerard_! That’s just gross!

In my shocked state, Pete had pushed me. I fell over on top of an old pizza box, but not without kicking his legs and taking him down with me.

“You want to hug him, you want to kiss him.” He sang after he landed next to me.

“No way! That’s gross!” I punched his arm before getting up and making my way to his bed.

“Yes way. _Gerard_ Way.” He continued to tease.

“That’s a terrible pun.” I belly flopped onto his bed, moving it back into the wall and creating a loud _thud_. “Sorry, I didn’t know your bed moved.”

“It’s okay. But _are_ you crushing on him, though?”

“I don’t know. He’s really attractive, I can’t deny that, but it’s _Gerard_. I can’t be crushing on _Gerard_.” I answered. I heard a door slam shut. Pete froze.

“Shit.” He whispered.

“What?”

“I think that’s my dad.” His wide eyes looked at me.

“So?”

“So, he’ll kill me if he finds out I had someone over, especially you.”

“Rude.”

“I’m sorry man. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just; he’s not really cool with the whole ‘me being bi’ thing. He’s always paranoid that I’ll bring a guy home and ‘do the do,’ y’know?” Pete’s terrified voice replied.

“Yeah, I get it. Do you want me to sneak out the window or something?” That’s when Hayley opened the door and stuck her head in.

“That was just Gerard, guys. Don’t worry.” Pete breathed a sigh of relief. “Your dad will be home soon, though, so Frank might want to head out.”

“Okay, thanks Hayls.” I grabbed my backpack and Pete walked me to the front door. “You sure you don’t want me to walk home with you?”

“I’ll be fine, Pete.” I smiled trying to reassure him.

“Alright, I’ll see you Monday.”

“Bye Peter.” I said as I opened the door.

“Later Frankie.”

“Don’t call me ‘Frankie.’” I deadpanned.

“Whatever Frankenstein.” I left quickly after that horrible nickname.

The walk from his house to mine wasn’t very far, ten minutes tops. Either way, my mother wasn’t very happy after not knowing where I’d been the last few hours.

“Frank Anthony Iero!” She yelled as she caught me trying to sneak up the stairs. “Where in God’s name have you been?”

“I was at a friend’s house.” I tried to stay calm, but my hands had started shaking.

“Dammit Frank! Don’t lie to me! You were drinking, weren’t you?” I was pissed. I was telling the fucking truth!

“I wasn’t drinking! I told you, I was at a friend’s house!” I raised my voice.

“You’re such a bad liar! I know you don’t have any friends.” Her voice was like venom.

“His name’s Pete. I can call him up right now.” I pulled out my phone to show her his contact.

“Go ahead.” I dialed Pete’s number.

It rung once.

Twice.

Thrice.

“Frank?” Hayley’s voice answered.

“Hayley? Is Pete there?” My mother’s angry eyes bore into me.

“Um, now’s not exactly a good time, Frank.” I could hear yelling in the background and I realized Pete was in the same predicament I was. My mother grabbed the phone out of my hand and started talking to Hayley.

“Hello, this is Frank’s mom. I just need to know where he was today.” I watched her as her face grew even angrier and the sound of a girl’s voice and not a boy’s like she was expecting. “Thank you.” She closed as she hung up. I stuck my hand out for her to give me my phone back, but of course she put it in her pocket instead. “You were with a girl? Frank, not only did you lie about who you were with, but God knows what you were doing with her! Because of that, I’m keeping your phone until further notice.”

“I wasn’t lying! I wasn’t even hanging out with her! She just happened to live there!”

“You really can’t come up with something more believable?” She ended the argument. I started stomping up the stairs towards my room before she called after me. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“In my room.” I said through gritted teeth.

“No, you’re coming down here and you’re going to eat the meal I provided you for once.” She waited for me to trudge down the stairs and lead me to the kitchen to serve up some pasta. I was just relieved that there wasn’t any meat in sight.

We ate in silence before I was dismissed to go hole up in my room.

 

*****

 

My alarm blared and I groaned as I woke up on Monday. I rolled myself out of bed and grabbed the first shirt in my closet. I slipped on my skinny jeans I had left on the floor and went into the bathroom to do my hair.

I walked into science and was met by bright red. Gerard had changed his hair color. He was drawing something in that damn sketchbook of his.

“Nice hair.” I muttered as I sat down next to him.

“Thanks.” He said as a blush creeped up his neck. I turned away as class started, much more interested in the whiteboard than in his eyes or his hair or the way his hands would glide across the page as he drew.

I stole a glance back at him to find he was also looking at me through his slightly-shorter-than-usual bright red hair.

"Um..." I cleared my throat.

"Hm?" He asked, still annoyed by my existence, but clearly not as much as he once was.

"I was thinking the other day, about attraction, and, uh, faces. I actually started out thinking about faces which led me to think about attraction, and, well, not that that usually follows thinking about that sort of thing. It's not like I'm attracted to any faces in here, especially not... your face..." Once I started, the words wouldn’t stop. I might as well just have shouted out to the entire school that I think Gerard was attractive.

He was amused. He had a little grin on his face, and the difference between a scowl and a grin took me by so much surprise, I found myself grinning as well.

"And, I mean, it's just so weird. Faces and attraction. I mean, you just pick a face and you decide you like it and some people like more faces than other people do, and some people like faces that other people don't like, and some faces are just universally accepted, and some are universally hated. Some people's faces are so nice, everybody agrees on the fact that it's a nice face. Isn't that crazy? Tell me it's crazy." I don’t know what made me continue rambling, but Gerard liked it.

"You're crazy," He said, but the insult seemed only halfway there.

"And then there's people like me, with boring and unattractive faces, and it's like, why. Why am I being put down because of my unattractive face and that other person isn't because they have a better face than me?" Ah yes, admitting you hate your face to your enemy. Good job, Frank.

"I don't think you have an unattractive face," Gerard said.

"Ok, well, I don't think you have an unattractive face either. As a matter of fact, your face is quite attractive."

I sat for a moment, letting this sink in.

"Well then, it seems like we have come to an agreement, for once. We are attractive people.” His face was becoming about as red as his hair, which was quite the accomplishment because his hair was _really_ red.

I nodded. We worked and talked a bit more until the bell rang and we left the table and went our separate ways. He took his attractive face with him, I took mine with me, and we didn't speak again for the rest of the day, as per usual.

 

*****

 

Pete and Patrick were sitting at our table as usual.

“Hey.” I greeted them.

“Hey _Loverboy_.” Patrick responded.

“What?” _Loverboy_? What was he talking about?

“I told him.” Pete confessed to me.

“Told him what? What’s going on?” Patrick pulled a napkin out of his pocket.

“This is what’s going on.” He said as he as he slid the napkin over to me.

There was something written on the napkin.

“I will never like Gerard Way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The return of the napkin! And thus concludes my pre-written chapters. However, I'm almost done with the next chapter and it's proving to be the longest one written so far. I really hope y'all liked it. Until next time.
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some self-harm in this chapter. Please don't read if you fear you'll be triggered. I love you. Please take care of yourself.

**GERARD**

“ _He’s really attractive, I can’t deny that, but it’s_ _Gerard. I can’t be crushing on_ _Gerard._ ” His words echoed through my ears as I ran out to my car. Frank? Crush? Me? Those words did not belong together.

I got in the car, barely breathing. It felt like my throat and lungs were teaming up and trying to suffocate me, I just couldn’t get enough air. _Anxiety attack_ my brain told me. _You’re having an anxiety attack_.

I struggled, clawing at my throat, my shirt, my jacket. It was too hot. My clothes needed to be off. I tore off my jacket with no relief.

I remembered the last time I had one of these. It was the beginning of my freshman year. I was nervous, everyone was, but I wasn’t handling it well. My summer break had been full of anxiety attacks, dotted with a panic attack here and there. Every single time I ended up crying into my pillow case, trying to muffle my sobs, and hoping that I’d suffocate in the process.

_This final time had been the night before the first day of school. I had stowed away in Mikey’s and my bedroom all day, as per usual back then._

_I wasn’t breathing, I wasn’t thinking. I just grabbed the razor blade I had hidden in a box under my bed._

_I lifted up my shirt and dragged the sharp edge across my stomach in short horizontal lines. I smiled and began to relax. The crimson rose above my skin and the pain was such a sweet relief. I laid back and looked up at the ceiling with my shirt still up to my chest and the blade still in my hand. I took deep breaths, focusing on nothing but the stinging sensation coming from my too thick abdomen._

_“G-gerard?” A small voice called out my name. I shot up and stared at my little brother as my shirt fell back down. “What-what are you doing?”_

_What was I doing? I was easing pain by creating pain. I was hurting on the inside so I hurt myself on the outside. I wanted to have as many physical scars as I had mental scars._

_“Mikey-"_

_“Lift up your shirt Gerard.” His large green eyes hardened. His voice went stern. I had never seen someone age so fast. Just a minute ago, he was eleven. Now he seemed too wise, too tired, to be anything even remotely close to eleven. He grew up too fast. My baby brother had to be a grown up because I couldn’t._

_“Mikey you’re not gonna like it.”_

_“I don’t care. Show me.” I slowly lifted my shirt to reveal my scarred stomach with fresh, bleeding cuts still hurting._

_Mikey just left. He turned around and left._

_“M-mikey?”_

_Did he not care? Was he too disgusted with me to stay?_

_“Mikey?”_

_Tears were starting to form in the corners of my eyes._

_“Mikey…” The blade fell from my hand._

_He had come back with a box of large Band-Aids. He walked in and sat down on the bed next to me._

_“Wh-what’re you doing?”_

_“You’re hurt.” He replied simply and put the first one over two cuts that were close to each other._

_“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to be doing this.”_

_“Well, it didn’t look like you were going to.” He finished putting Band-Aids over all the cuts and discarded the box. I hugged him and started crying._

_“I’m so sorry.”_

_“Why?” He asked. “Why’d you do it?”_

_“I-I don’t know.”_

_“Bull.”_

_“I just, I was hurting so bad, Mikes. I didn’t know what to do.”_

_“Just, please don’t do it again.”_

_“I promise I won’t if you promise me that no matter how much you hurt, you’ll never start-” I choked on my words. I couldn’t say it. The thought of my little brother being in this much pain was too much._

_“Deal.” He didn’t need me to finish the sentence. He knew what I was going to say and that broke my heart. He knew about this kind of pain. My sweet, innocent brother knew how badly life can make a person hurt._

The memory calmed me down enough to let me start driving home.

I walked into the house. My parents didn’t even look up as I walked through the living room and up the stairs to our bedroom. I knocked on our door.

“I’m not hungry.” Came Mikey’s watery reply. Something my parents would have just ignored. I, however, knew he was crying.

I opened the door.

He was sitting on his bed, carving words into his legs, tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked up. His large green eyes suddenly looked so hurt, so broken. I never realized how much pain those eyes held until now.

“Get out.” He growled.

“Mikey, I-“

“I said get the fuck out, Gerard!” I did as he asked.

Panic gripped at my throat as I headed down the hall. I stumbled into the bathroom and tore apart the drawers. I grabbed what I needed and headed back. I walked through the still-open door way and sat down next to him on the bed, gently taking the blade out of his hand and setting it on the nightstand.

I put the Band-Aids on his legs over the words that he had drawn. “Love is a lie,” said his left leg. The beginning of the word “forever” was on his right. I pretended not to notice the other faded scars that littered about his legs.

“Is this about Ray?” I asked quietly.

“No.”

“I’m taking that as a yes.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” He sounded so tired, as if he’s had this conversation hundreds of times already.

“Oh?” I prompted.

“You know my life story. I don’t need to share it with you.” He was sounding angry again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, sorry. Everyone’s fucking sorry.” I tried not to seem hurt by his words.

“We promised.” I looked into eyes, searching for any sign of guilt.

“I know. But so did he and look where that ended up.” I was met by endless amounts of regret.

“Mikey-“

“Promises don’t get kept, Gerard! I’m not eleven anymore. I know a few things about how the world works, and it’s not fucking pretty. Everyone’s corrupt in some way. You’re a fake, Ray breaks promises, Hayley can’t keep a secret, and I-I’m just an all-around fuck up.” To hear him thinking like that hurt more than anything I had heard before.

“Mikey, don’t say that.”

“It’s true everyone knows it. Why’d you even bother to patch me up? I’ll probably be dead soon anyways.”

“Mikey-“

“Don’t lie.”

“Fine. I love you.”

“I told you not to lie.”

“I’m not.”

“No one can love me Gerard. I can’t even love myself.” I hugged him. I didn’t know what else to do.

He pushed me off.

“A hug’s not gonna fix anything Gerard. Just leave me alone to rot.”

“There’s no way I’m going to leave you alone.” I put my hand on his knee.

“Then where were you when I needed you? Where were you when I was scared about going into middle school and had no idea what to expect? Where were you when I had no idea who I was or who I was attracted to? Where were you when I was getting beat up for being the only openly gay kid in the school? Where were you?” I was speechless. “I’ll tell you where. You were in your self-absorbed head with people you don’t really care about that you call your friends. I’ve grown up, Gerard. I’ve learned that nobody’s gonna be there for me and I’ve adapted.”

“Mikey, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. It’s annoying.”

“Please, Mikes. What can I do to fix this?”

“The damage is already done Gerard. I can’t be fixed.”

“Bull.” We sat there in silence, Mikey with tears escaping from his eyes and me with my hand drawing circles with my thumb on his knee, when I got an idea. “Mikey, what’s your favorite thing to do?”

“I dunno. Why?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Um, play bass I guess.”

“Okay. Put on your pants and meet me in the basement.” I made sure to grab his razor blade before running down into our basement and setting up.

“Alright. What’re you so excited about?” Mikey asked when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Give me a second!” I responded before turning around and facing my little brother. “Okay. So you know how I draw a lot?”

“Yeah.”

“Well. It’s kinda the same thing. If you play bass whenever you want to, y’know, then eventually you’ll either become the world’s most practiced bass player, or the urge will practically disappear.” I said and handed him his bass guitar. “You could even form a band and write your own bass lines. I know some people, I could hook you up.”

“Um, okay.” He said and strummed a few chords.

Mikey practiced his bass into the early hours of the morning and I was right by his side helping him come up with different sounds. By two a.m., we just ended up talking about music and high school and cute boys.

“Hey, I never asked, how’d things go with Frank after I texted him that one time?”

I looked at him for a moment. I had almost forgotten.

“Oh, just peachy.” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Gee, you’re kinda choking me.”

“That’s the point asshole.” I let go before I could cause any real damage, but Mikey did end up coughing a bit. I was concerned until he started laughing.

“You gotta admit, you kinda deserved it.”

“Whatever.” I jokingly rolled my eyes.

We ended up falling asleep in our basement that night.

 

*****

 

I had spent a whole bunch of time at the record store with Rick over the weekend. We talked a lot and just overall enjoyed each other’s company when we weren’t dealing with customers. He talked to me about how I’m doing in class and college plans and life choices. He was pretty much the father figure I wish my dad would be.

“Now what about a special someone? Are there any cute girls at your school?” It had been a while since I had been asked that question. Everyone understood I was gay, and all the people that really mattered were fine with it, the others I just cut out of my life. But I guess the topic had never come across while talking with Rick.

“Yeah, there are plenty of cute girls, but I’m more interested in the cute boys.” I shrugged.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s this one guy who I think has a crush on me, but we’ve always hated each other, so I’m not quite sure what to think about it.”

“Well, do _you_  like him in that way?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

 

*****

 

Monday came around and I surprised myself by not being too worried about it. I jumped out of bed with more energy than I’d had in days. I went through the daily routine of getting dressed, waking Mikey up, almost being hit in my sensitive place, and downing way too much coffee.

After looking at myself in the mirror and reassuring myself that, yes, I do look good with red hair, and yes, this shirt looks fine with my new hair color, I headed outside and got in the car to drive Mikey to school.

“Shit.” I heard him mumble under his breath.

“What?” I turned to him.

“Nothing. Never mind.”

“When you say nothing’s wrong, something’s wrong.” I retorted.

“It’s just, what am I going to do about Ray?” His voice was full of worry and my heart went out to him.

“Nothing. Show him you’re over it. That you’re too good to even give him a second glance.” I had only had a few relationships before, and I had always been the one to break up with the other person.

“But, what if I’m not over him?” Of course, how could he be? It’s only been a few days after all.

“Fake it till you make it.”

“Hey Gee?” He changed the topic.

“Yeah?”

“Mind if I hang out with you before class?”

“I guess you can.” We arrived at the school and Mikey stuck close by me. I chatted with a few acquaintances and introduced Mikey to a few people.

“What about him? What did you say his name was?” Mikey nodded over to a guy.

“Pete?” What interest could Mikey possibly have with someone like him? “What about him?”

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” I choked.

“Pete? Cute? I-“ That’s when Fedora Guy approached him and I stopped in my tracks because damn was Fedora Guy cute.

“Oh.” Mikey smirked as he realized why I stopped. “You think the guy in the fedora’s cute, don’t you? What’s his name?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’re gonna go say hi.” Mikey grabbed my hand and led me over there.

“But-“ I couldn’t talk to them! They were Frank’s friends!

“Hi, I’m Mikey, and I’m sure you know my brother, Gerard.” Mikey introduced himself to the pair. It surprised me how outgoing Mikey could be.

“Um, hi?” The Fedora Guy answered as Pete was too flustered to speak by Mikey’s sudden appearance behind him.

“I don’t know your guys’ names and Gerard’s too stubborn to tell me.”

“Well, I’m Patrick, and this dork is Pete.” Fedora Guy, Patrick, replied.

“Nice to meet you.” Mikey giggled. Was he _flirting_? _Already_?

Patrick and I caught each other’s eye and he started blushing. Damn he’s cute when he blushes.

“I’m Pete.” Pete finally blurted pout. “Fuck. No. Fuck.” Pete realized he was a bit too late in the conversation and became bright red as he ran away in embarrassment through the crowd of people cluttering the hallway.

“I’m sorry.” Patrick apologized before running after him.

“Wow, you sure know how to pick ‘em, huh Mikey?” I teased.

“Shut up. That was cute.”

“That was embarrassing, even for me.”

“Whatever, don’t be an asshole. He was just, nervous.”

“Sure thing.” The first bell rung then and Mikey gave me a quick hug goodbye before running off to class.

 

*****

 

Science class was… interesting, to say the least.

I came in a bit before the second bell to work on a sketch before class. I noticed Frank come in a minute before the second bell finally rang and I was surprised to see him in class so early.

“Nice hair.” He complemented me as he sat down. I thanked him and I could feel a blush creeping up my neck. Why was I blushing? It was just _Frank_.

Despite that, I was very engrossed in my sketchbook. I was definitely too busy drawing to notice the way his hair curled slightly at the bottom, or how his calloused hands folded over each other as he read what Mr. Hatcher had written on the white board.

I looked at him through my slightly too-short hair. His shirt collar was off center, allowing me to see a bit of his pale shoulder. I looked up at his face to see he was looking back at me.

"Um..." Oh no. He thinks I’m weird now. What was I doing? Staring at him like a creep.

"Hm?" I prompted him to take the attention off me.

"I was thinking the other day, about attraction, and, uh, faces. I actually started out thinking about faces which led me to think about attraction, and, well, not that that usually follows thinking about that sort of thing. It's not like I'm attracted to any faces in here, especially not... your face..." He started rambling. It was actually kind of cute. He started grinning before he continued. "And, I mean, it's just so weird. Faces and attraction. I mean, you just pick a face and you decide you like it and some people like more faces than other people do, and some people like faces that other people don't like, and some faces are just universally accepted, and some are universally hated. Some people's faces are so nice, everybody agrees on the fact that it's a nice face. Isn't that crazy? Tell me it's crazy."

"You're crazy.” I responded with a slight smile.

"And then there's people like me, with boring and unattractive faces, and it's like, why. Why am I being put down because of my unattractive face and that other person isn't because they have a better face than me?" My heart caved in on itself when he said that. How could he not think he was attractive?

"I don't think you have an unattractive face." Those were some of the most sincere words to ever leave my mouth.

"Ok, well, I don't think you have an unattractive face either. As a matter of fact, your face is quite attractive." Oh. He thinks I’m cute? No, he was lying. Right?

"Well then, it seems like we have come to an agreement, for once. We are attractive people.” I said to humor him. I could feel the heating in my face rising, but it did nothing but embarrass me more and cause me to blush even harder.

We talked a bit more and worked on our project until the bell rang. I left class with a smile on my face for once and there was no way anyone could bring me down.

 

*****

 

“Your hair!” Ryan gasped as Hayley and I sat down at our table during lunch. “It’s red!”

“That’s what happens when you put hair dye in, Ry.” I teased.

“It looks nice.” Andy piped up.

“Unlike that beard you’re trying to grow.” Hayley joked.

“Whatever. I look cool.”

“Whatever you say, Andy.” Hayley replied.

“Oh! Did you guys see the new Sherlock trailer?” Ryan interjected.

“There was a new Sherlock trailer?” Hayley and I asked in unison.

“Yeah. Looks like the new season’s coming _before_  2030!” Andy added.

“Hey Gerard,” Hayley said while she was turned around. “Isn’t that Mikey?” I turned around and saw Mikey talking with Pete, Patrick, and Frank a few tables away.

“Yes. Yes it is.” I replied.

“This isn’t his lunch hour. What’s he doing here?” Ryan asked me.

“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.” I stood up and walked over to my brother. “Mikey! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in class?” I feigned surprise.

“Oh, well I had to go to the library to pick up a few books before my next class and I thought I’d come say hi.” Mikey answered as he turned to look at me.

“Oh, well, ‘hi’. I don’t know if you noticed, but I kinda don’t sit at this table.” I sassed.

“I didn’t say I was saying hi to _you_.” He sassed back.

“Cold man.” I heard Pete say. I gave him a death glare and he shrank back a bit.

“Well I guess you should be getting to class, Mikey.” I prompted.

“But-“

“ _You should be getting to class, Mikey_.” I repeated.

“Fine.” Mikey sighed. He turned back on me. “Sorry guys, gotta be leaving.”

“See ya, Mikey.” Pete said as a farewell for all the guys at the table. Mikey walked off to class as I walked back to my friends.

“So?” Andy asked.

“He was flirting with Pete before his next class.” I answered.

Hayley choked. “Mikey? Pete? _Flirting_? And so soon after-“

“Yeah I know. I don’t like it.” I replied and Hayley shuttered.

“Hayley’s step-brother Pete? _Frank Iero’s_  Pete?” Ryan asked.

“Unfortunately.” I sighed. “Hayley, don’t take this the wrong way, but I am _not_  letting my brother date yours.”

“What? Is my step-brother not good enough for you?” She joked.

“Oh hell no. No one in your family is.” I teased back.

“Rude.”

“Rude is my middle name.”

“I thought it was Arthur.” Andy said.

“Nope. I legally changed it to Rude.”

“Gerard Rude Way sounds stupid.” Andy laughed.

“It’s better than _Arthur_.” Hayley retorted.

“Anything’s better than Arthur.” Ryan added.

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I have an awesome name you guys don’t.”

“Keep dreaming.” Ryan snorted.

“Um…” I voice said from behind me. Ryan and Andy looked up and their disgusted looks told me exactly who was behind me.

I sighed and faced him.

“Patrick?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I finished this chapter sooner than I thought I would, so y'all get another one to hold you over until we write a new one. And thank you again for all the feedback!
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of self-harm and death, cigarettes

**FRANK**

I sighed as my alarm screamed at me to get up. I didn’t feel like being an active member of society today. I just wanted to sleep.

 

My bed groaned at my weight as I sat up, almost as if begging me to stay a little longer. I looked around the dark room and felt discontent with the gray hues caused by the light of early morning peeking through the gap in my dark curtains.

 

I finally pulled myself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, grabbing some clothes on the way there.

 

Everything felt so dreary and dull. I couldn’t quite place what was wrong, but I knew something was.

 

I sighed again, trudged down the stairs, and made my way out the door without bothering to grab breakfast. I stopped and looked down at my phone to choose a band to listen to, glancing at the time as I did so. It was only 7:20. I had at least thirty minutes.

 

I took my time getting to school today, but I still had a lot of time before I had to go to class. I was at a loss for what to do because Patrick and Pete weren’t here yet, or at least I couldn’t find them, and Mr. Hatcher’s room wasn’t open yet.

 

I sighed and headed to the band room. I thought I might as well make use of the extra time and get some practice in.

 

I ran through what happened yesterday as I got out my sax.

 

 _I can’t believe Patrick actually asked him out_.

 

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time that morning. Another sigh, a more pleasured one, echoed me. It wasn’t unusual for people to make out in the practice rooms. It was, however, unusual to see Pete Wentz making out with someone in one of the practice rooms.

 

The question was, though, who was he making out with?

 

“Mikey…” He moaned.

 

Well that answered that question.

 

I banged on the door, making one of them squeak.

 

“I need to practice.” I said loud enough for them to hear me.

 

“Whatever asshole.” Pete winked at me as he opened the door and dragged a very red Mikey Way behind him by his hand.

 

I looked at their hands and then back at Pete as if to ask _when the hell did_  this  _happen_?

 

“The room’s all yours.” He said, giving me a look that I knew meant he was going to tell me all about it the first chance he got.

 

I rolled my eyes and ran through a couple of the songs our class was working on.

 

*****

 

I made it to class a few minutes before the bell rang and saw Gerard drawing at his seat with his ridiculously ~~adorable~~ bright red hair covering his face just slightly. It didn’t cover his face as much as it used to, the previously black strands would reach down to his jaw, but the now red strands only made it to his cheek bones.

 

It made him look tanner, I realized. He was still very pale, of course, but it wasn’t quite as noticeable. I guess I wasn’t one to talk, though. My pale complexion was more than noticeable behind my shoulder length black hair. I guess black just makes everyone look pale.

 

I sat down and quietly hummed the song I had just been playing to myself. You know you’re a band geek when you get /Bisbee Hill/ stuck in your head.

 

Gerard looked up at me and I stopped humming, not wanting to annoy him for once.

 

“Why’d you stop?” He asked quietly. I shrugged in response. He gave a small disappointed frown and turned back to his sketchbook, closing it and putting it away.

 

“Alright, class.” Mr. Hatcher started. “We’ll be starting up a new unit soon, so if you haven’t already made after school plans with your partner, you should do that today.”

 

Shit.

 

Gerard and I looked at each other, a mix of disgust, anger, and perhaps fear was evident on his face and I’m pretty sure I mirrored him.

 

“Um, well, I know this coffee shop a few blocks from here, we could go there after -school, I guess.” I half-halfheartedly suggested, not really wanting to have to spend any more time with him than I already do.

 

“Yeah, that’ll be fine. Or you could come over to my house; it’d be quieter there.” Ew, no. There was no way I was going to go to Gerard’s house. Just the two of us in a private space, anything could happen, and that’s not necessarily a good thing.

 

“Um, I think a public setting would be better.” I told him honestly.

 

“What? Do you not trust me or something?” He smirked. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or if he was actually offended, but I ignored him either way.

 

*****

 

We met up at Kenny’s Deli & Café after school. It was a place where Patrick, Pete, and I would sometimes hang out and do our homework. It was always cool to look through the windows of the tattoo parlor next door, too, and daydream about all the ones I would eventually get.

 

The smells of sautéed onions and roasted peppers filled my nose as I walked into the small, homey restaurant. Arianna walked out from the back as I entered and greeted me warmly. It is a small place, but I’ve come here so many times over the last couple of years that’d be hard not to recognize me.

 

“Hey Frank, is it just you today?” She asked as we walked over to the counter lining one of the walls.

 

“I’m actually meeting somebody here.” I answered as we both sat down. I gave her a questioning look before realizing she was the only other person in the place.

 

“Ooh, is it a girl? Are you finally dating someone?” She teased. Arianna was like the older sister I never wished I had.

 

“No, quite the opposite, actually.” I laughed.

 

“Oh, I see.” She winked. “Not a girl. I get it.”

 

I simply rolled my eyes.

 

“Alright, well, y’know the rules. Can’t stay if you don’t order something.” She pulled out her pad and a pen to take my order.

 

“You’re just trying to come up with an excuse to take my money.” I teased. “Luckily for you, I can’t resist the sweet call of champús. And I’ll get some mote to snack on.”

 

“Alright, I’ll go let Christian know.” She said as she headed back to the kitchen and yelled something at her brother in Spanish.

 

Gerard walked in shortly after, looking very out of place and uncomfortable.

 

“Hey.” He said as he sat down next to me.

 

“Hey.” I responded.

 

The awkward tension filled the room and was so thick that I thought I might choke. Luckily, Arianna walked into the dining area, looked at the two of us, gave me a sly wink which immediately made my face heat up, and set down my drink and a plate of the corn kernels, the just barely noticeable lime scent making me smile.

 

“Do you want anything, Cariño?” She asked Gerard.

 

“Just water, please.”

 

“Sure thing, Hermoso.” She said as she walked off.

 

“These are for us to share.” I said as I slid the mote between the two of us.

 

“Oh, uh, thanks. Wh-what are they?” He asked innocently.

 

“It’s mote. Basically it’s corn kernels boiled in a mix of water and lime and lightly seasoned. They’re really good.” I explained, popping one into my mouth.

 

“Okay.” Gerard seemed content with my explanation and timidly put one in his mouth. I could tell the flavor surprised him at first, but he eventually settled into it and ate a couple more.

 

We work on the project a bit, but mostly just goofed off.

 

It was a few hours later when we finally decided to leave.

 

“I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t have a horrible time.” Gerard said as I gave Arianna a tip.

 

“Well I’m glad.” I replied. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

 

“Well, let me at least walk you to your car. I may not like you, but I’m still a gentleman.” He offered.

 

“That’d be quite the walk, ‘cause my car’s at my house.” I joked.

 

“Wait, you were gonna walk home?” He asked and I nodded in response. “No no no, that won’t do. Come on, let me drive you home.”

 

“Please, Gerard, that’s not-“

 

“I insist.” He cut me off. His green eyes staring holes into mine.

 

This wasn’t the first time he’d stared at me like that.

 

_”Please,” He said. His stringy black hair framed his slightly chubby face made me wonder just how often he washed his hair, or if it always looked like that. “Please don’t leave me.”_

_“Gerard, I-I have to go.” When it came out that Gerard Way was gay, my mother stopped wanting me to hang out with him. It hurt because he was my closest friend at the time, but I was still an obedient sixth grader and what my mother said was law._

_“Fine, Frank. Leave. Just leave me.” The way my name usually sounded on his lips made my heart skip a beat, but now he said it full of venom and pure hatred. I would have given anything not to have my name be Frank right then. “Leave just like everybody else. I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong. You’re just like everybody else, Frank. A homophobic coward. I hate you.”_

_Those words stung. I didn’t even know what homophobic meant, but I knew it was bad and that I had hurt him. His green eyes that used to be so soft and gentle grew hard and angry. I had hurt him, and now my best friend hated me. I wanted to apologize, I wanted to make it up to him, but he had walked away, hanging his head and breaking my heart_.

 

“Do you remember?” I asked him softly. “Sixth grade?”

 

I through him off guard. He looked like he was about to cry which made me want to kill myself. I didn’t want to hurt him, not like that.

 

“Yeah, of course I do, Frank.” He spoke softly. “And believe me, I wish I didn’t.”

 

The sincerity in his words made me feel like absolute shit. I was his friend, and I abandoned him.

 

“Come on, let me drive you home.” He took my hand in his and walked me back to his car. I was too stunned to say anything as he opened the passenger door for me, closed it once I got in, and ran around and in the driver’s side.

 

“I’m sorry.” I said, barely audible.

 

“I forgive you.” He said, matching my tone.

 

*****

 

“Dude, he’s so cute!” Pete was ranting about Mikey again at the lunch table. I was happy for him but I just couldn’t focus. Not after last night.

 

_"Thank you,” He said. “For meeting me tonight.”_

_We were on my door step, but I wasn’t sure how. It seemed like we had just gotten in the car and everything was over way too soon._

_“Of course.” I said. We were close. I could feel his breath and I never wanted to be any further from him ever again._

_He leaned closer to me and I surprised myself by not leaning back. Our noses touched and-_

 

“Frank, are you listening?” Pete broke my train of thought.

 

“I-what? Yeah, totally.” I stuttered.

 

“No you weren’t. Is everything okay?” Patrick asked me. Oh god, Patrick.

 

“I-I don’t know.” I got up and walked toward the library.

 

I can’t believe I forgot about Patrick. I was centimeters away from kissing his boyfriend! On the day he asked Gerard out, too! I felt terrible. What kind of a friend was I? I knew Patrick had asked Gerard out on a date, and I knew Gerard had said yes, Patrick didn’t stop talking about it at lunch yesterday. And yet, there I was, almost kissing my best friend’s boyfriend on my front porch.

 

I wanted to die.

 

I wasn’t watching where I was going, which was a huge mistake. As I was looking at the ground and obsessing over my self-hatred, I ran right into the one and only, Gerard Way.

 

“We have to stop meeting like this.” He joked once he recovered from the impact.

 

“Yeah.” I mumbled and dusted myself off, continuing towards the library.

 

I haven’t cut in a long time. It’s been a little over a year since the last time. I’m not gonna say I didn’t want to, that would be a huge lie, but I was able to control my urges and stay clean. Now? I’m not so sure that I can.

 

I just wanted a distraction. Something to take my mind off all the terrible things that I’ve done and all the ways I’ve fucked up recently.

 

“Hey,” I felt someone grab my arm. “Are you okay?”

 

I just shrugged and turned around, staring into those green eyes of his.

 

“Frank, come on. Talk to me.” He worried.

 

“Why should I, Gerard?” I said more harshly than I anticipated.

 

“Because I care about you, Frank. I want to make sure you’re alright.” He answered earnestly.

 

“Oh really? Since when did /you/ start caring about /me/?” I started to raise my voice.

 

“Frank, calm down. You’re causing a scene.”

 

“Oh! I see! You care about me only because you don’t want me to cause a scene! Is that it?” I was yelling. I couldn’t help it.

 

“Frank-“

 

“Stop that! Stop saying my name!”

 

“I’m sorry?” He questioned.

 

“Yeah, you should be.” I said before storming off.

 

I don’t know where I was going, but I needed to get out of here.

 

*****

 

I ended up by the record shop Pete took us to last Thursday. Had it really only been five days ago? It felt like an eternity.

 

I had taken a box of cigarettes with me that I had stashed in my backpack for times like this. I had sat on the ground, my back against the store, in the small alleyway that separated ‘Rick’s Records’ from the clothing store in front of me.

 

I had chain smoked three of my seven ‘cancer sticks’, as my mother likes to call them, by the time anyone came. It was a beat up, black Honda Civic. The same one that drove me home last night.

 

I put my hood up and hoped he just thought I was another drifter. There were enough in this city that it wouldn’t be uncommon.

 

“Frank?” Shit. “Frank, what are you doing?”

 

Gerard approached me as I stood up and dusted myself off.

 

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked me.

 

“What does it matter?” I responded.

 

“Hold on a sec.” He said before running into the record store.

 

That’s just like him, though. Abandoning me when things get too hard.

 

At least, that’s what I thought he was doing. He surprised me by coming back out, grabbing my hand, and leading me to his car. He opened the passenger door, just like last night, but this time I didn’t get in. I just stared at him.

 

“Why?” I croaked, trying to hold back a sudden wave of tears. Gerard stopped holding the door and held me instead. I started sobbing into the soft fabric of his shirt, not caring anymore. I didn’t care that I was crying in public, I didn’t care that I was being hugged by another boy, and I didn’t care that the boy was the one person I hated more than anything. Right now, I wasn’t even sure that I hated him anymore.

 

His hands moved up and down my back and he whispered words of comfort against my hair.

 

Somehow we ended up in his car, driving to who knows where, and relishing in the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's been a while.  
> I have excuses, but you don't want to hear them and I don't want to say them, so let's skip the formalities and I'll just let you know that I've had a rough couple of months.  
> But, I'm doing better now. I'm finally dating the girl of my dreams, I've started going back to therapy, and I've started a new anti-anxiety medication. Things are looking up.  
> My co-author, who usually writes Frank's POV is having a hard time being able to write, so it took me a while to finally step in and then another month to actually write the chapter. But it's here, it's queer, and so am I.  
> I hope you enjoyed, and I'm starting the next chapter after I upload this.  
> Until next time...
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll
> 
> OH! I almost forgot!  
> I was a doof, and deleted my Tumblr.  
> All of it.  
> A year's worth of work.  
> Deleted.  
> I'm still bitter about it.  
> BUT! That now means new beginnings, so if you fancy, Gee's Tumblr is still up and active: http://notawhitegirl-justagayguy.tumblr.com/  
> My Tumblr is here: http://blubxll.tumblr.com/  
> And here's my personal: http://my-name-is-blue.tumblr.com/  
> Thanks! I love you, and have a good week.


	16. Chapter 15

**GERARD**

We just drove. I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going, but the roads seemed familiar. I was too focused on the shaky breathing in the seat next to me. I had been there. I had seen those lows. I didn’t want Frank to feel that way; he didn’t deserve to hate himself the way I did.

The smoke from his cigarettes lingered on his clothes and I breathed in the smell of my version of comfort. My eyes darted from the road, to Frank, and back to the road. The ever present shadows on the asphalt looked more like monsters than the outline of trees.

Eventually I pulled into my driveway. I don’t know how we ended up at my house, but we were here and I wasn’t going to admit that I didn’t know what I was doing.

I got out of the car and walked around to open the door for Frank. I’ve always prided myself on my manners. It’s not the most logical thing to be proud of, but I think it’s one of my better qualities and there’s no way I’m letting go of something I actually like about myself. I hold onto those things for dear life because they might just be the one thing that keeps me alive one day.

I grabbed his hand as he got out and led him to my front door. Unlocking the olive colored wood, I guided him inside and to my room. I made eye contact with Mikey as he sat at the dining room table and did his homework. He just stared at Frank, me, and our hands held together as I tugged him along behind me.

It was a bit harder to lead Frank up the narrow staircase, but somehow he managed to get on top of my bed.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled through the pillow that covered his face.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” I asked him.

He sat up and faced me where I sat on Mikey’s bed.

“I’m sorry I was upset, I’m sorry you found me, I’m sorry you’re wasting your time trying to help me when I know there’s probably a million things you’d much rather be doing, I’m sorry-“

“Frank, do you think you’d be here if I didn’t want you to be?” He seemed to really realize where he was as he looked around the room.

“I’ve never been in your room before.” He commented.

“I know.”

“I’ve never been in your _house_  before.”

“I know.”

“Why now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why d’you decide to finally bring me here?”

“Because I come here to feel better, I thought it might help you, too.” It seemed obvious now. Pain? My room. Depression? My room. Anxiety? My room. This was where I went to feel safe; this was where I went to escape my problems. It was my answer.

He pushed me over with the force of his hug. If I hadn’t been sitting at an angle, my head would have hit the wall. Nevertheless, I hugged him back and held him there as he shook and his eyes made my shoulder wet.

 

*****

 

“Frank,” I shook the figure curled up on the twin sized mattress. His back was pushed against my chest and his head was under my chin, but despite how comfortable I was, I really had to pee. “Frank?” I whispered again, this time hearing a groggy groan in response.

I smiled to myself as the hair on his head stood up at weird angles when he finally lifted his head and sat up as best he could. He looked around the room, trying to figure out where he was. I didn’t blame him. If I woke up in some other person’s house, on a school day no less, I’d be curious, too. His attention finally reached me.

While I can understand being freaked out, screaming and falling off the mattress was a little offensive.

I chuckled as he picked himself back up. He muttered something under his breath, but I still really needed to pee, so I went to go take care of business.

Twenty minutes and one shower later, I walked back into my room with a towel around my waist and water dripping from my hair. Frank was still standing there, just looking. I cleared my throat to alert him of my presence, also noticing that Mikey must have slept downstairs last night.

I grabbed some clothes for myself and some for Frank as well. I wasn’t going to let him wear the same dirty t-shirt as yesterday.

He gave me a questioning look as he examined the button up and skinny jeans. I just shrugged and headed to the bathroom to get dressed. No way was I going to let him see me change.

I emerged with straightened hair and enough hairspray in it to drown a small rodent. I knocked on the bedroom door, listening to make sure I wasn’t about to see _him_  changing, and walked in to grab him and drag him downstairs.

The smell of coffee filled my nose as I saw my younger brother in the kitchen. He gave me a look that said “what the hell?” and left to go get ready in privacy.

Frank and I ate in silence. I wasn’t a morning person, and I guessed Frank wasn’t either. The quiet felt familiar, though. It felt like home. However, not the judgmental quiet that I’d grown so accustomed to receive from my parents. No, it was the quiet that said everything, even though nothing was actually said. The quiet that said “I care” or “I’m here” or “I understand” or even “I love you.”

I love you.

Did I just really think that about Frank?

I remembered Patrick, and the fact that everything about the other day felt wrong. Those words came out of the wrong mouth; that emotion came from the wrong brain. I stared into the wrong eyes.

I looked at Frank. He was looking down for the most part, but I could still make out the honey hazel of his eyes. Patrick’s were too blue, not enough brown or green. Frank’s seemed to be the perfect combination of all three colors. He looked up and stared at my green pupils, a color I never much cared for, and I realized something. These were the right eyes. These were the only eyes that made sense. These were the eyes that I feared I was in love with.

I stood up abruptly, taking my empty cereal bowl to the sink.

“Mikes, hurry up.” I called, knowing he heard me despite the silence I received. “Come on, Frank, we’re gonna be late.”

 

***

 

Frank and Mikey ended up talking a lot more than I expected during the ride to school. Mostly about Pete, but I didn’t mind. I enjoyed listening to the way Mikey talked. He seemed so happy, which is something that I didn’t see on him very often. I was glad he had Pete. Sure, I may not have been a huge fan of the guy, but he made my baby brother happy, and that takes either talent or love. For Mikey’s sake, I was hoping for the latter on both ends.

We pulled into my normal parking spot and Mikey rushed out of the car right away. I didn’t know why until I saw him practically tackle Pete into a hug. I let out a soft chuckle as I reached into the backseat to grab my bag. My shirt rose up slightly, revealing a bit of my stomach as I did so. I noticed Frank’s eyes staring at the patch of skin before looking away quickly.

“Hey, Gerard…” Frank said quietly, breaking the silence between us.

“Yeah Frank?” I sat up straight in my seat and looked at him.

“C-can I do something?” His voice was so soft. I had never seen him be so uncharacteristically shy before.

“I suppose?” I answered hesitantly, not really sure what he was planning on doing.

He leaned closer to me. I leaned closer to him.

His hand went to my cheek. My hand went to his shoulder.

His eyes closed. My eyes closed.

 

*****

 

“Rick, I have a problem.” I rushed out as I entered the record store. The familiar smell of cigarettes and lavender surrounded me as I was pulled into a hug.

“Sure thing. What’s up, Gee?” His expression screamed concern as he held me by my shoulders, keeping me balanced, but at a distance.

“Y’know how about Patrick?” I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.

“Yeah?” His words were cautious. His expression was cautious. His hands were cautious.

“Well, he kissed me.” All the blood rushing to my face made me feel like I was going to explode.

“Patrick did?” Rick almost seemed relieved.

“No, that’s the problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally headed in a different direction, but I finally worked up the courage to kiss my girlfriend and, well, I was inspired. Sorry it's a little short for the long wait, but I feel it was best to leave it there for now. And, because not only testing, but the entire school year, ends tomorrow, there'll be a lot more time to work on this. Hopefully I can get updates up every other week like I did before school started. Also, I switched meds in the middle of writing this, so I feel the tone is inconsistent. Let me know if you noticed that, too. (That's something I've been trying to stop doing, but, well, it's kinda hard.) Wow, this note is long. Okay, to wrap things up, let me know what you thought in the comments, or just chat with me down there. Either way, I'd love to hear from you! Thanks again for reading and putting up with the long wait.
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This was originally uploaded on the My Chemical Romance Fanfiction archive by myself (Bluebell) and my best friend frank-iero-is-attractive. They write Frank's parts and I write Gerard's, but the updates aren't very often due to school and whatnot. That being said, this is also our first fic, so I'm sorry if it's not that great. Please let us know what you think in the comments section!
> 
> Stay Alive, Sunshine  
> -Bluebxll


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